Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Oct 24, 2018 7:35:16 GMT -5
Ghostlight
The Ghost in Your Mind
It's time for me to take it
I'm the boss right now
Not gonna fake it
"...You better not die before me..."
Oddly enough that was the sentence that ran through her mind once everything went silent, once everything went black... once everything ended.
The once beautiful she-cat could remember the entire portion of where that statement came from. She had just given birth to three kits, a hard and painful process that almost costed her life then. Her favorite scent, that of her mate, was what hit her next. That and the gentle run of his tongue over her ear and his voice, both cranky and scared that he was going to lose something that was precious to him.
The black she-cat always figured, hell she would have even bet on it, that Blackwolf would have expired before her. In some glorious fashion like a bloody battle, the way he always wanted to go. But no... it was her who Starclan decided to call upon to join their ranks with the rest of the galaxy studded warriors from times present and past. Granted, the sharp tongued female never expected to pass in such a... well, in a pathetic way. She too, figured a good fight would take her from the forest, but alas it was mere older age and severe greencough that took her last breath.
She had been frail, weak. Her once beautiful silky coat was dingy and dull with lack of life. Her unusual and capturing pale blue eyes were cloudy, fogged over as her vision slowly faded more and more into inky darkness. Nothing more than skin and bones as her lungs screamed from each heavy cough, nose streaming and eyes crusted. Greencough had never affected her before, granted she had to wait many moons ago for Blackwolf to get over his own bought of sickness. It wasn't the same though, Ghostlight knew that she wasn't going to recover from this.
She had already outlived both of her siblings, Spiriteye lost in a border skirmish and Hauntingwind had disappeared with no trace. The senior warrior wasn't ready to leave Nightclan and her family, but her legacy would live on through her three precious kits. Or rather fierce and proud warriors: Bonetail, Hollystorm and Coyoteheart. And someday, they too would bare their own kits to pass on for generations to come.
Her last moments within her body were painful, and with her last breath she was ready to join her ancestors up among the stars. Spiriteye stood next to her, waiting for his raven pelted sister to fully join him, deep blue eyes full of the same sparkling mischief he wore when he was among the living. He was the reason she knew she wasn't going to survive this harsh sickness. She had seen him hovering like a vulture for the last few days, but it didn't scare her. At first she didn't want to die, but now she was ready to be welcomed, as long as the greencough was taken from her body. As long as she was no longer in pain.
And so, her last shaky breath stilled her once beautiful form, the light finally leaving those ghostly pale pools of hers.
Gone, but not forgotten.
Gone, but not lost.
Gone, but still within the hearts of those who loved her.
Gone, but still there.
Starclan looked good on the former warrioress of Nightclan. She looked as she did many, many moons ago: A lithe and beautiful she-cat with silky black fur at a manageable medium length. The feathered tail of hers waved to and fro, tuffed ears flickered and of course her eyes. Almost as if her namesake was for those icy pools, ghostly to look at but with the light of mischief swarming within those cerulean hues. Always the feline with natural beauty that, of course, knew how to use it.
"You can't hover."
Spiriteye's light tone sounded as Ghostlight let her pale pools trail after her mate. He looked so old, so weak, so broken as he carried her lifeless form from camp, from where the sickness stole her life. Her kits followed, all with their heads and tails down, it was only the four of them who made their way through the entrance and out into Nightclan territory to find a place to lay their deceased mother, Blackwolf's deceased mate, forever. It took a moment for the former queen to pull her attention back to her white pelted brother, the stars adoring his paws almost blinding.
"I know... I wont be long." Ghostlight responded in her usual annoyed, sisterly tone as she retorted to Spiriteye. There was a simple pass of understanding that floated from the black feline to her white brother, and with a slow nod Spiriteye shimmered away into nothingness.
Her paws didn't make a sound, similar to that when she was alive, though only more so now because she was not seen, she was not scented, she was not heard. Only mourned for. Star studded black pelt shifted and blended with the shadows of the forest as she made her way past several former clanmates to follow those she still loved deeply within her heart. Out the entrance, through some bushes and far from where Nightclan normally buried their dead.
Ghostlight stood next to Blackwolf, and though her feathered pelt was pressed against his scared flank, he couldn't feel or see her. The broken and lost look in those duel colored pool tore at her stomach, not to mention the way her kits looked as their father dug the hole and then proceeded to fill it up without a single mew or hiss from his marred jaw.
When she was younger, the fierce female had never truly wanted a family. She had no desire to find a mate, no desire to birth kits that would carry on her linage. And yet somehow, the two most unlikely cats fell in love with each other. A tom who could care less about anything but himself, and a she-cat who was more than pleased to use other cats for her own means. The cerulean eyed beauty had never been very comforting or compassionate, never once worried about others over herself.
And then their three kits were introduced into their lives and everything changed within Ghostlight.
The deceased feline felt a tight pull within her heart, and although they were unaware of it, she pressed her nose to each of her kits in turn as they whispered their goodbyes to her. Hollystorm was first, Ghostlight's only daughter and practically her spitting image if it wasn't for the green pools she inherited from Blackwolf. Bonetail padded up to her freshly filled grave, and while nothing was said, the old she-cat could see the struggle within his duel pools. Bonetail, the kit who had been born with his surefire name before he even appeared within the world, her little white fluff ball.
And finally, Ghostlight's runt. There had always been a special connection between her and each kit, but the one between her and Coyoteheart was strong. She almost died trying to bring him into this world, then spent most of his life trying to keep him safe, trying to keep him healthy and she almost failed at that when he had been attacked by a fox.
"My kits." Ghostlight whispered softly as they walked away, leaving her resting place for the first and most likely the last time. They were all grown up, no longer were they little balls of energy getting underpaw and into everything within Smokefur's den. No longer did they need her for food, for protection or for comfort, but she would always be their mother.
And so, with their grown kits gone, Ghostlight sat beside Blackwolf for a long time. Her star studded body pressed softly against him as she had done when living. Many moons had passed for the two of them, and she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to leave the grumpy old badger just yet. The wear and tear on his body, he had never looked so old before now. It was as if all the fight had fled from his body, all the desire and will had succumb to disease just as she had.
And once again those words ran within her ears: "... You better not die before me..."
It caused her to tilt her head, ghostly pools shimmering with memories that flashed before her mind. Everything she had ever experienced with Blackwolf was her favorite things, and someday within the future they would be together again, she was sure of it. The silky feline was already well aware that she would walk by his side until it was time for him to join her. She would be there, waiting as his finally breath left and his glorious, handsome, star studded form padded up to touch her nose. The thought itself almost caused a purr to rumble within the Starclan warrior's chest, and Ghostlight stood to touch her nose to one of Blackwolf's ear.
She took a breath of his scent one last time before whispering ever so softly, her black coat fading into nothing as her form slipped away on the wind. "I'll wait for you..."
Oddly enough that was the sentence that ran through her mind once everything went silent, once everything went black... once everything ended.
The once beautiful she-cat could remember the entire portion of where that statement came from. She had just given birth to three kits, a hard and painful process that almost costed her life then. Her favorite scent, that of her mate, was what hit her next. That and the gentle run of his tongue over her ear and his voice, both cranky and scared that he was going to lose something that was precious to him.
The black she-cat always figured, hell she would have even bet on it, that Blackwolf would have expired before her. In some glorious fashion like a bloody battle, the way he always wanted to go. But no... it was her who Starclan decided to call upon to join their ranks with the rest of the galaxy studded warriors from times present and past. Granted, the sharp tongued female never expected to pass in such a... well, in a pathetic way. She too, figured a good fight would take her from the forest, but alas it was mere older age and severe greencough that took her last breath.
She had been frail, weak. Her once beautiful silky coat was dingy and dull with lack of life. Her unusual and capturing pale blue eyes were cloudy, fogged over as her vision slowly faded more and more into inky darkness. Nothing more than skin and bones as her lungs screamed from each heavy cough, nose streaming and eyes crusted. Greencough had never affected her before, granted she had to wait many moons ago for Blackwolf to get over his own bought of sickness. It wasn't the same though, Ghostlight knew that she wasn't going to recover from this.
She had already outlived both of her siblings, Spiriteye lost in a border skirmish and Hauntingwind had disappeared with no trace. The senior warrior wasn't ready to leave Nightclan and her family, but her legacy would live on through her three precious kits. Or rather fierce and proud warriors: Bonetail, Hollystorm and Coyoteheart. And someday, they too would bare their own kits to pass on for generations to come.
Her last moments within her body were painful, and with her last breath she was ready to join her ancestors up among the stars. Spiriteye stood next to her, waiting for his raven pelted sister to fully join him, deep blue eyes full of the same sparkling mischief he wore when he was among the living. He was the reason she knew she wasn't going to survive this harsh sickness. She had seen him hovering like a vulture for the last few days, but it didn't scare her. At first she didn't want to die, but now she was ready to be welcomed, as long as the greencough was taken from her body. As long as she was no longer in pain.
And so, her last shaky breath stilled her once beautiful form, the light finally leaving those ghostly pale pools of hers.
Gone, but not forgotten.
Gone, but not lost.
Gone, but still within the hearts of those who loved her.
Gone, but still there.
Starclan looked good on the former warrioress of Nightclan. She looked as she did many, many moons ago: A lithe and beautiful she-cat with silky black fur at a manageable medium length. The feathered tail of hers waved to and fro, tuffed ears flickered and of course her eyes. Almost as if her namesake was for those icy pools, ghostly to look at but with the light of mischief swarming within those cerulean hues. Always the feline with natural beauty that, of course, knew how to use it.
"You can't hover."
Spiriteye's light tone sounded as Ghostlight let her pale pools trail after her mate. He looked so old, so weak, so broken as he carried her lifeless form from camp, from where the sickness stole her life. Her kits followed, all with their heads and tails down, it was only the four of them who made their way through the entrance and out into Nightclan territory to find a place to lay their deceased mother, Blackwolf's deceased mate, forever. It took a moment for the former queen to pull her attention back to her white pelted brother, the stars adoring his paws almost blinding.
"I know... I wont be long." Ghostlight responded in her usual annoyed, sisterly tone as she retorted to Spiriteye. There was a simple pass of understanding that floated from the black feline to her white brother, and with a slow nod Spiriteye shimmered away into nothingness.
Her paws didn't make a sound, similar to that when she was alive, though only more so now because she was not seen, she was not scented, she was not heard. Only mourned for. Star studded black pelt shifted and blended with the shadows of the forest as she made her way past several former clanmates to follow those she still loved deeply within her heart. Out the entrance, through some bushes and far from where Nightclan normally buried their dead.
Ghostlight stood next to Blackwolf, and though her feathered pelt was pressed against his scared flank, he couldn't feel or see her. The broken and lost look in those duel colored pool tore at her stomach, not to mention the way her kits looked as their father dug the hole and then proceeded to fill it up without a single mew or hiss from his marred jaw.
When she was younger, the fierce female had never truly wanted a family. She had no desire to find a mate, no desire to birth kits that would carry on her linage. And yet somehow, the two most unlikely cats fell in love with each other. A tom who could care less about anything but himself, and a she-cat who was more than pleased to use other cats for her own means. The cerulean eyed beauty had never been very comforting or compassionate, never once worried about others over herself.
And then their three kits were introduced into their lives and everything changed within Ghostlight.
The deceased feline felt a tight pull within her heart, and although they were unaware of it, she pressed her nose to each of her kits in turn as they whispered their goodbyes to her. Hollystorm was first, Ghostlight's only daughter and practically her spitting image if it wasn't for the green pools she inherited from Blackwolf. Bonetail padded up to her freshly filled grave, and while nothing was said, the old she-cat could see the struggle within his duel pools. Bonetail, the kit who had been born with his surefire name before he even appeared within the world, her little white fluff ball.
And finally, Ghostlight's runt. There had always been a special connection between her and each kit, but the one between her and Coyoteheart was strong. She almost died trying to bring him into this world, then spent most of his life trying to keep him safe, trying to keep him healthy and she almost failed at that when he had been attacked by a fox.
"My kits." Ghostlight whispered softly as they walked away, leaving her resting place for the first and most likely the last time. They were all grown up, no longer were they little balls of energy getting underpaw and into everything within Smokefur's den. No longer did they need her for food, for protection or for comfort, but she would always be their mother.
And so, with their grown kits gone, Ghostlight sat beside Blackwolf for a long time. Her star studded body pressed softly against him as she had done when living. Many moons had passed for the two of them, and she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to leave the grumpy old badger just yet. The wear and tear on his body, he had never looked so old before now. It was as if all the fight had fled from his body, all the desire and will had succumb to disease just as she had.
And once again those words ran within her ears: "... You better not die before me..."
It caused her to tilt her head, ghostly pools shimmering with memories that flashed before her mind. Everything she had ever experienced with Blackwolf was her favorite things, and someday within the future they would be together again, she was sure of it. The silky feline was already well aware that she would walk by his side until it was time for him to join her. She would be there, waiting as his finally breath left and his glorious, handsome, star studded form padded up to touch her nose. The thought itself almost caused a purr to rumble within the Starclan warrior's chest, and Ghostlight stood to touch her nose to one of Blackwolf's ear.
She took a breath of his scent one last time before whispering ever so softly, her black coat fading into nothing as her form slipped away on the wind. "I'll wait for you..."
So you say I'm complicated
That I must be outta my mind