Post by Fawn on Oct 15, 2020 2:55:33 GMT -5
This PRP takes place Leaf-fall Day 15, the day after the Medicine Cat Meeting.
teach them how to say goodbye
one last time, you and i He went to check on the flowers at sunrise. It had been days since he'd dug up the bulbs and replanted them over Honeysong's grave. It was a gesture he'd given no thought to, until her sudden but peaceful loss had him looking at the world differently.
Honeysong had been a mother. A nurturer. He could think of no better way to honor the love of his life than to plant flowers where she lay, so that even in death her body could nurture growth and replenishment.
The rest of the Clan gave him this peace. This private exchange between the soul remaining and the soulmate departed. It was a firm paw from StarClan that kept a piece of Lionstar's life, one of his remaining lives, from going with Honeysong that day. He took comfort in knowing that there were five pieces already waiting there for her, able to keep her company until his time was truly up.
Autumnal winds stirred his golden and black-ticked fur, the heavy mane swept against his chest. Lionstar's whiskers twitched as he stepped onto softer ground; maybe it was the rawness of his emotions, but the softer ground made him feel more connected to her. The cold hard ground of leafbare felt like petrification, like flies trapped in amber. Dead. Unyielding.
At least come spring, the bulbs he'd planted would take root, and fresh growth would sprout from even the toughest soil. Maybe then the healing process for his own heart could begin.
Aa Lionstar walked, keen eyes - though distant from all-too-recent lack of sleep - picked up the softest impressions of paw prints headed in the direction he was going. The matching scent was that of his three kits, who had gone to visit their mother's grave some time in the night.
Lionstar breathed deep. Yes, the scent was stale, and he traced the outline of Brackenstride's footprint with a claw. After Falconstorm, Brackenstride had been the worst at accepting that Honeysong was gone. It was like losing her twice, watching his son's heart break for a mother taken too soon.
He didn't have the words, then. Too raw was his own grief. But in the future, Lionstar prepared himself to talk at length with all of his children, to see if they couldn't hold each other together like cobwebs to a wound.
He was their only parent now. All three grown and capable, but he still felt the pressure of a father to guide them every step of the way. Grief was something he would try to navigate them through as best as any father could.
A pungent musk hit him like claws across his nose. Lionstar's eyes watered from the strength of it and he instinctively crouched, crept forward to where Honeysong lay undisturbed.
Mostly.
Over the fresh-turned earth where the bulbs had each been carefully placed, was a massive pawprint. Lionstar's spine arched, bristling as dense footfalls traveled through the ground and into his own paws.
Demon. On TreeClan soil. Anger struck a match across his heart, and he showed his teeth as if he could smell the smoke. The boldness of TreeClan's enemies shouldn't surprise him anymore, but as Lionstar scanned the area for any sign of the lynx, he couldn't help a bitter laugh at himself.
So foolish he was to think boundaries meant anything to a hungry, monstrous predator. Once upon a time the scents of over a dozen capable warriors would have kept their old foe at bay. But even that was not meant to last. StarClan knew the long list of Demon’s victims. The beast had once feasted on one of TreeClan’s medicine cats in the past.
Something wet spattered against his coat. Lionstar's senses were flooded with rabbit blood, and then the body it dripped from hit the ground beside him.
Lionstar looked up into the bloody maw of a lynx crouched on the low branch of a sycamore, bark strips peeled back like fruit rinds where the lynx's claws had scoured it.
Golden eyes took in the face of one of his oldest, most unrelenting enemies. Hope lingered in Lionstar’s eyes that the dawn patrol would arrive to corner their intruder. But they were going to need time to circle back this way…
Could he even back out of this if he wanted to? Above him crouched a hungry lynx, and when he looked into the creature’s intelligent, soulless eyes, he knew he could not count on Demon for mercy or fairness.
Lionstar bared his teeth. "You picked a poor place for your hunting grounds," he seethed, and unsheathed his claws.
The fight was vicious and short-lived, like so many things in this valley. Lionstar learned very quickly that he was not the only one suffering from the effects of old age. For every throaty snarl and quick swipe, Lionstar found himself able to lash back and catch his larger foe with his own claws. Not for the first time, gratitude over Lionstar’s oversized claws washed through him.
A bloodied eye fixed on Lionstar, who panted from the torn skin and fur along his flanks. A chunk was missing from his mane, and his muzzle bled where large claws had ripped at him. Lionstar crouched, sending all the strength he had left into this final leap. Demon could not scramble out of the way, not with one damaged eye and the other obscured by the drip of blood. Realization dawned in the hideous snarl distorting Demon’s face.
They collided like falling stars on the same trajectory, and Lionstar gasped, feeling something inside him snap. A rib? His back? A limb? In the heat of the moment he couldn't tell. All he could feel was the smothering of lynx fur in his eyes and mouth as he latched on to the creature's throat.
Demon writhed, that desperate frantic jerk of a beast aware of the danger it was in. Lionstar bit down so hard his jaw ached, but blood pooled onto his tongue - wild and foul and so very unlike preyblood -and over his teeth.
Demon stumbled and they crashed into the protruded roots of a sycamore, crushing the rabbit carcass and painting Lionstar's back in its blood. The air rushed out of him in a strangled gasp, and the lynx ripped his throat free of Lionstar's teeth. Blood speckled onto golden fur, staining his muzzle.
There was a heartbeat of stillness, as quiet as a single drop of rain, where the two foes felt the weight of this moment. So many lives had been lost to the demon of the valley; their paths had crossed many times over, but the fight had always felt one sided.
But time had tipped the scales into something like balance.
"Run," Lionstar hissed, spraying blood as he did so. "Run back to your den, but know you have set paw on TreeClan soil for the last time." The faint drum-beats of an approaching patrol was like music to his ears. He sneered at the lynx as he staggered over the roots, golden eyes tight with pain and the satisfaction of solving a problem through violence. So rarely did he get the chance.
The great cat snarled, the wound in his neck making him wobble before some second strength, the mark of the ruthless kicked in. His accent was as thick as the blood he choked on. "So have you."
Demon lunged as Lionstar tried to scramble aside, and that crunch sounded a second time, his heart shuddering in surprise as he felt the lynx's teeth pierce right into his chest. Fear for his own life clouded his senses for the first time in so long.
But that fear became nothing. Like a sigh in the wind, it vanished. Truly, what could this creature do to him that time, that the natural process of old age had not done already? Honeysong was dead. The cats he had grown up with, the cats he had looked up to, the cats he had trained beside were so much stardust now.
And wasn't he stardust now too?
The jaws in his chest released, and the fallen Lionstar saw the ragged, limping form of the lynx trying to escape. A flurry of movement and Pumafang cut off Demon's escape route.
He had been dropped onto the earth like a discarded leaf, his colors faded, and the wind struggled to tease his blood-slicked fur. It was so hard to breathe. The sensation was like the forest fire all over again; it was as if no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't draw air deep enough. He was choking on his own life force. Lionstar's body shuddered, hazy eyes watching with grim satisfaction as the lynx fell under the patrol, the monster cat's death hastened more than the beast deserved.
They were warriors. Lionstar smiled, even as death claimed him. He had taught them that there was no reward in causing pain. Honor still lived and breathed in TreeClan, no matter the rotten few who behaved otherwise.
Lionstar vanished into darkness, swallowed up by gushing, burning pain. He lost sight of TreeClan, the forest, Honeysong's grave. He had not intended to water the flowers with his blood, but he did not regret his actions. There was never the right moment to meet Demon, but he could be grateful he had made the most of it with every savage the old leader could muster.
Shadows made of mist and starlight swirled around him, flashes of faces and snippets of familiar voices haunted him. With a second shudder, the world stabilized, and he opened his eyes to a starlit forest so very like TreeClan's camp.
"I had always hoped for a peaceful ending for you, son."
Badgerstripe sat upon the Ancient Stump, his pelt glinting with trapped starlight, and beckoned Lionstar to rise. Lionstar smiled, breathing deep the memory-scent of his father wrapped in the chilled aura of eternity. "Who says I didn't go peacefully? I have more lives to give." He allowed himself the joy of movement unhindered, StarClan's peace keeping the pain at bay until he returned to his body.
Lionstar leaped onto the Ancient Stump, his pelt brushed against his father as he took his place beside him.
Badgerstripe flicked an ear, and his long brush-like tail swept in the direction of the medicine cat's den. "They have already been given."
Lionstar watched as a shimmering golden form stepped from the medicine cat's den, starlit golden eyes unaware of the audience of father and son. Lionstar leaned his head back, watching a sliver of himself pad away into the forest as if beckoned by some unknown, unspoken thing.
Dread hit Lionstar in the stomach as he watched a second sliver of himself appear shortly after the first, and follow suit.
By the time the third one appeared, Lionstar was on his feet and, with a mighty leap, landed at the mouth of the fallen log of TreeClan's camp. His paws scuffed the starry copy of the camp floor to Falconstorm's den.
With a growing surge of panic, he peered in, watching a hazy fourth version of himself flicker in and out, like dying sunlight through a thick canopy.
"Are you afraid to die, Lionstar?" Asked Badgerstripe at his shoulder.
"No," he replied. He wasn't. "I don't want to cause my Clan any more pain. I tried to spare them more grief, I did not intend to cause more."
Brackenstride, Lilybreeze, Ivyclaw… Their mother's loss was so fresh, and here he was tearing into their wounds, cutting so deep he feared they would never recover. But they were strong. They had one another. They had Gorsetail and Feathercloud. They had Sprucefur and Pumafang, Timberfrost, Silentsong and Skyfall to look after them.
"I am going back." A fire was lit behind Lionstar's eyes, flickering in the eternal moonlight overhead. Badgerstripe snorted, but Lionstar merely walked to the nest occupied by that final shimmering life. I don't care if I get a minute or another moon. I will not leave them like this.
He laid down, locking eyes with his father as he did so.
"We will wait for you, Lionstar." said Badgerstripe.
"We will hold back the pain as much as we can," Sandfur meowed, walking in to stand beside her first mate.
Rowanberry waved her tail behind them, where two she-kits bounced around her paws, unaware of this penultimate goodbye.
Lionstar's heart squeezed, torn between the burning desire to return and the profound aching need to stay.
"Where is Honeysong?" He glanced around, shocked to see her absent from the gathered spirits. Even as he spoke, more cats were gathering behind his parents. Familiar faces and pelts, but not the one he was looking for.
Sandfur purred. "Waiting for you in Falconstorm's den. She has not joined us yet, and refuses to until you are by her side."
Lionstar's throat tightened, and their forms began to blur, the crisp clarity of StarClan's forests fading back into stark, cloying reality.
He woke up with Honeysong's scent on his tongue. Bleary, bloodshot eyes opened to the dark interior, numb in the heavily scented air of Falconstorm's den. He tasted copper and borrowed time.
"What do you mean you can't do anything? Get out of my way! I have to see him!"
His son's voice made his heart pulse with pain and joy both, and Lionstar managed to drag his head up from his bed of moss. "Brackenstride," he coughed, struggling to stay upright. "We taught you better manners than that."
A stampede of paws was Brackenstride's answer as the lithe golden tom pushed his way through, his sisters following, breathless with worry, behind him.
"Dad!"
"I'll get you some water—"
"No." He caught Ivyclaw's eye. "Stay. I need you all to stay. Send Sagepaw to get Gorsetail, Feathercloud, and Pumafang."
"Why?" Demanded Brackenstride. "You should be resting."
Lionstar's chest hurt with each breath, his claws flexing into the moss as he pushed himself into a righted position. As hard as it was to look his children in the eyes and tell them the truth, he thought of Honeysong, and drew strength from the love that had carried him this far.
"I am going to need you to be brave, Brackenstride. Lilybreeze, Ivyclaw. My time…" Lionstar's smile was gentle, but heavy. "My time is up. StarClan is calling me home, but I will not go without saying goodbye."
After an agonized inhale, the exhale came out as a series of wet coughs, and he could feel the jagged, angry wound of where Demon's fang had punctured his chest. StarClan had many strengths, but they could not perform miracles.
"When you were born, it was the brightest day I had ever seen. You made the world fuller, and made your mother and I so happy. I love you, even more now than when you were born. That you all live and enjoy life and continue to be a part of this Clan fills me with so much pride and relief. You were worth the wait. My three last blessings."
Ivyclaw choked on a sob, and Lionstar beckoned her with a weary sweep of his tail. They curled up against him as if they were small again, and he could feel Brackenstride shaking where their flanks touched. Wordlessly he laid his tail around his son, and Brackenstride's posture hunched, knotted up under the pressure to keep himself together.
Two figures threw the Clan entrance into shadow. Gorsetail and Feathercloud arrived. Lionstar chuckled, the memories overlapping before his very eyes. "Wormpaw and Featherpaw. My two apprentices. We struggled in the beginning, didn't we? But everything was as it should be in the end. You were patient with me." Lionstar first looked to the silver tabby she-cat. "I am proud of you, Feathercloud. Know that you could never disappoint me or lose my love and respect. I've watched you grow into the resilient, brave warrior I knew you could be, and a compassionate mother with the wisdom to grow and learn on that journey. You have been like a daughter to me, I couldn't… go without seeing you one last time."
Lionstar's posture sank slightly, his strength drained. He caught sight of the mess of dried blood, herbs and cobweb covering the wound in his chest. He felt his children press in again, as if trying to give him some of their strength and vitality. With closed eyes, Lionstar drew another breath and struggled on, blinking black spots from his vision to lay his gaze upon Gorsetail.
A heavy brooding presence darkened the entrance again. Pumafang. He would address the new leader of TreeClan last.
"Gorsetail." A lump formed in his throat, and he had to cough again to clear it. "No one's journey has humbled and inspired me more than yours. You were my apprentice, my warrior, my deputy, my son. You became the best of us, Gorsetail. Selflessness few can imagine. You gave more than I could have asked of anyone, and if I could go back to that moment, I would have given my life to spare you such pain. I… I need you to know that my faith in you has not changed. That TreeClan still needs you. Knowing you and Feathercloud and Pumafang will watch over this family - it gives me comfort. I still leave TreeClan's guidance in your capable paws, Gorsetail. Teach the young what it means to be a TreeClan cat. Remind them that there is no greater thing than love." I am so proud of you, Wormkit.
"Pumafang," Lionstar spoke again, this time his voice hoarse from so much use. The chest wound pulsed, making his breathing shudder and his body tighten under the sharp, agonizing wave. The faint starry outline of cats teased the edges of his sight. Just a moment longer. Please.
"Pumafang," he tried again, his voice a whisper. His three offspring shifted to make room for the deputy to approach and lower his head near the dying leader.
"I chose you for your strength and your capability. I chose you because I was angry, and you felt like an extension of my claws. I should have spent more time learning to understand you. I have been selfish, and I have been quick to judge. You are a good warrior, Pumafang. But leadership will test you in ways you can't imagine. Do not be afraid to feel things you consider weak or pointless. Sometimes by gaining a new perspective we can see what we would otherwise miss. There is no greater honor in my life than to give my whole being to this Clan. What I have given, I have received tenfold in the love and respect of this Clan. There is no such thing as a perfect leader. You will make mistakes. But you will triumph, because you work hard. Just remember, Pumafang, logic can only get you part of the way. Without vulnerability, strength will only carry you so far."
Lionstar… it's time, my love. Honeysong's voice drifted in on a breeze only he could feel. The pain in his chest was getting lighter. Fainter, as if he were losing his tethers to his mortal body. He felt… distant. Lionstar leaned into Pumafang's shoulder, his brow firm. "Tell them how much I loved them. Tell them I gave every life, every moon, every breath to see TreeClan thrive. I will be watching over you all from StarClan. My reward is knowing that TreeClan will continue to flourish, even if not by my paws. You have my blessing, Pumafang. You and your new family. Guide them well."
"Kits…" He grunted softly, and they reluctantly pulled away at his insistence. "There is nothing more for you all to see. Please, give the others comfort in my stead. I want to speak with each one, but StarClan knows I've already borrowed more than enough time."
"But Dad—" Brackenstride stepped forward.
"Go." Lionstar cut him off. "Let your old father go peacefully. I made your mother wait long enough..."
They came in a stampede, but left in slow, solemn footsteps. He could see them struggling, but he knew it was the right decision. Brackenstride was the last to leave, breathing hard and staring Lionstar down as if searching for an argument powerful enough to fix this. Lionstar smiled softly, sadly, his mouth dry. Let me go, son.
Brackenstride turned, and Lionstar heard a noise that sounded so very much like a whimper, before the lithe golden tom left him in the darkness.
The den was suddenly lit by starlight, and he could see the outline of his mate beside him.
Those beautiful eyes, that radiant, gentle smile beckoning him home. Was it selfish to wish for more time? To hold on to TreeClan for a little while longer? Maybe it was. He wouldn’t apologize for that wistful, final thought. With the quietest of sighs, he let the world go. The pain vanished, but the memories and the emotions stayed. His spirit shimmered over the shadowed husk of who he had once been. Honeysong purred, their cheeks brushing.
"Walk with me?" He whispered.
Honeysong tucked her head beneath his chin.
"Always."
"After the vigil, bury me beneath the Great Maple, where the roots are so deep and the branches so strong, there is no one in TreeClan I cannot reach out and touch. My soul will climb that tree to Silverpelt, and I will take my last look at this beautiful, precious thing I am leaving behind."
- Lionstar's Final Wish
195 threads. 9 apprentices. 8 years. 6 PRPs. One very grateful Fawn.
Thank you for letting me lead TreeClan for so long. If someone had told me in 2012 that I'd still be here eight years later, saying goodbye to a character I've literally grown up with, I'd have said you were crazy. I have so many fantastic memories with my golden boy, and they wouldn't be possible without everyone who threaded with me over the years. I poured my heart into playing him, and through him, into TreeClan. It's time I gave the reins over to someone else. <3
I love you all so very much.
Playing Lionstar meant more than you'll ever know.
Thank you.
LionstAr
teach them how to say goodbye
one last time, you and i
Honeysong had been a mother. A nurturer. He could think of no better way to honor the love of his life than to plant flowers where she lay, so that even in death her body could nurture growth and replenishment.
The rest of the Clan gave him this peace. This private exchange between the soul remaining and the soulmate departed. It was a firm paw from StarClan that kept a piece of Lionstar's life, one of his remaining lives, from going with Honeysong that day. He took comfort in knowing that there were five pieces already waiting there for her, able to keep her company until his time was truly up.
Autumnal winds stirred his golden and black-ticked fur, the heavy mane swept against his chest. Lionstar's whiskers twitched as he stepped onto softer ground; maybe it was the rawness of his emotions, but the softer ground made him feel more connected to her. The cold hard ground of leafbare felt like petrification, like flies trapped in amber. Dead. Unyielding.
At least come spring, the bulbs he'd planted would take root, and fresh growth would sprout from even the toughest soil. Maybe then the healing process for his own heart could begin.
Aa Lionstar walked, keen eyes - though distant from all-too-recent lack of sleep - picked up the softest impressions of paw prints headed in the direction he was going. The matching scent was that of his three kits, who had gone to visit their mother's grave some time in the night.
Lionstar breathed deep. Yes, the scent was stale, and he traced the outline of Brackenstride's footprint with a claw. After Falconstorm, Brackenstride had been the worst at accepting that Honeysong was gone. It was like losing her twice, watching his son's heart break for a mother taken too soon.
He didn't have the words, then. Too raw was his own grief. But in the future, Lionstar prepared himself to talk at length with all of his children, to see if they couldn't hold each other together like cobwebs to a wound.
He was their only parent now. All three grown and capable, but he still felt the pressure of a father to guide them every step of the way. Grief was something he would try to navigate them through as best as any father could.
A pungent musk hit him like claws across his nose. Lionstar's eyes watered from the strength of it and he instinctively crouched, crept forward to where Honeysong lay undisturbed.
Mostly.
Over the fresh-turned earth where the bulbs had each been carefully placed, was a massive pawprint. Lionstar's spine arched, bristling as dense footfalls traveled through the ground and into his own paws.
Demon. On TreeClan soil. Anger struck a match across his heart, and he showed his teeth as if he could smell the smoke. The boldness of TreeClan's enemies shouldn't surprise him anymore, but as Lionstar scanned the area for any sign of the lynx, he couldn't help a bitter laugh at himself.
So foolish he was to think boundaries meant anything to a hungry, monstrous predator. Once upon a time the scents of over a dozen capable warriors would have kept their old foe at bay. But even that was not meant to last. StarClan knew the long list of Demon’s victims. The beast had once feasted on one of TreeClan’s medicine cats in the past.
Something wet spattered against his coat. Lionstar's senses were flooded with rabbit blood, and then the body it dripped from hit the ground beside him.
Lionstar looked up into the bloody maw of a lynx crouched on the low branch of a sycamore, bark strips peeled back like fruit rinds where the lynx's claws had scoured it.
Golden eyes took in the face of one of his oldest, most unrelenting enemies. Hope lingered in Lionstar’s eyes that the dawn patrol would arrive to corner their intruder. But they were going to need time to circle back this way…
Could he even back out of this if he wanted to? Above him crouched a hungry lynx, and when he looked into the creature’s intelligent, soulless eyes, he knew he could not count on Demon for mercy or fairness.
Lionstar bared his teeth. "You picked a poor place for your hunting grounds," he seethed, and unsheathed his claws.
✦✦✦
The fight was vicious and short-lived, like so many things in this valley. Lionstar learned very quickly that he was not the only one suffering from the effects of old age. For every throaty snarl and quick swipe, Lionstar found himself able to lash back and catch his larger foe with his own claws. Not for the first time, gratitude over Lionstar’s oversized claws washed through him.
A bloodied eye fixed on Lionstar, who panted from the torn skin and fur along his flanks. A chunk was missing from his mane, and his muzzle bled where large claws had ripped at him. Lionstar crouched, sending all the strength he had left into this final leap. Demon could not scramble out of the way, not with one damaged eye and the other obscured by the drip of blood. Realization dawned in the hideous snarl distorting Demon’s face.
They collided like falling stars on the same trajectory, and Lionstar gasped, feeling something inside him snap. A rib? His back? A limb? In the heat of the moment he couldn't tell. All he could feel was the smothering of lynx fur in his eyes and mouth as he latched on to the creature's throat.
Demon writhed, that desperate frantic jerk of a beast aware of the danger it was in. Lionstar bit down so hard his jaw ached, but blood pooled onto his tongue - wild and foul and so very unlike preyblood -and over his teeth.
Demon stumbled and they crashed into the protruded roots of a sycamore, crushing the rabbit carcass and painting Lionstar's back in its blood. The air rushed out of him in a strangled gasp, and the lynx ripped his throat free of Lionstar's teeth. Blood speckled onto golden fur, staining his muzzle.
There was a heartbeat of stillness, as quiet as a single drop of rain, where the two foes felt the weight of this moment. So many lives had been lost to the demon of the valley; their paths had crossed many times over, but the fight had always felt one sided.
But time had tipped the scales into something like balance.
"Run," Lionstar hissed, spraying blood as he did so. "Run back to your den, but know you have set paw on TreeClan soil for the last time." The faint drum-beats of an approaching patrol was like music to his ears. He sneered at the lynx as he staggered over the roots, golden eyes tight with pain and the satisfaction of solving a problem through violence. So rarely did he get the chance.
The great cat snarled, the wound in his neck making him wobble before some second strength, the mark of the ruthless kicked in. His accent was as thick as the blood he choked on. "So have you."
Demon lunged as Lionstar tried to scramble aside, and that crunch sounded a second time, his heart shuddering in surprise as he felt the lynx's teeth pierce right into his chest. Fear for his own life clouded his senses for the first time in so long.
But that fear became nothing. Like a sigh in the wind, it vanished. Truly, what could this creature do to him that time, that the natural process of old age had not done already? Honeysong was dead. The cats he had grown up with, the cats he had looked up to, the cats he had trained beside were so much stardust now.
And wasn't he stardust now too?
The jaws in his chest released, and the fallen Lionstar saw the ragged, limping form of the lynx trying to escape. A flurry of movement and Pumafang cut off Demon's escape route.
He had been dropped onto the earth like a discarded leaf, his colors faded, and the wind struggled to tease his blood-slicked fur. It was so hard to breathe. The sensation was like the forest fire all over again; it was as if no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't draw air deep enough. He was choking on his own life force. Lionstar's body shuddered, hazy eyes watching with grim satisfaction as the lynx fell under the patrol, the monster cat's death hastened more than the beast deserved.
They were warriors. Lionstar smiled, even as death claimed him. He had taught them that there was no reward in causing pain. Honor still lived and breathed in TreeClan, no matter the rotten few who behaved otherwise.
Lionstar vanished into darkness, swallowed up by gushing, burning pain. He lost sight of TreeClan, the forest, Honeysong's grave. He had not intended to water the flowers with his blood, but he did not regret his actions. There was never the right moment to meet Demon, but he could be grateful he had made the most of it with every savage the old leader could muster.
Shadows made of mist and starlight swirled around him, flashes of faces and snippets of familiar voices haunted him. With a second shudder, the world stabilized, and he opened his eyes to a starlit forest so very like TreeClan's camp.
"I had always hoped for a peaceful ending for you, son."
Badgerstripe sat upon the Ancient Stump, his pelt glinting with trapped starlight, and beckoned Lionstar to rise. Lionstar smiled, breathing deep the memory-scent of his father wrapped in the chilled aura of eternity. "Who says I didn't go peacefully? I have more lives to give." He allowed himself the joy of movement unhindered, StarClan's peace keeping the pain at bay until he returned to his body.
Lionstar leaped onto the Ancient Stump, his pelt brushed against his father as he took his place beside him.
Badgerstripe flicked an ear, and his long brush-like tail swept in the direction of the medicine cat's den. "They have already been given."
Lionstar watched as a shimmering golden form stepped from the medicine cat's den, starlit golden eyes unaware of the audience of father and son. Lionstar leaned his head back, watching a sliver of himself pad away into the forest as if beckoned by some unknown, unspoken thing.
Dread hit Lionstar in the stomach as he watched a second sliver of himself appear shortly after the first, and follow suit.
By the time the third one appeared, Lionstar was on his feet and, with a mighty leap, landed at the mouth of the fallen log of TreeClan's camp. His paws scuffed the starry copy of the camp floor to Falconstorm's den.
With a growing surge of panic, he peered in, watching a hazy fourth version of himself flicker in and out, like dying sunlight through a thick canopy.
"Are you afraid to die, Lionstar?" Asked Badgerstripe at his shoulder.
"No," he replied. He wasn't. "I don't want to cause my Clan any more pain. I tried to spare them more grief, I did not intend to cause more."
Brackenstride, Lilybreeze, Ivyclaw… Their mother's loss was so fresh, and here he was tearing into their wounds, cutting so deep he feared they would never recover. But they were strong. They had one another. They had Gorsetail and Feathercloud. They had Sprucefur and Pumafang, Timberfrost, Silentsong and Skyfall to look after them.
"I am going back." A fire was lit behind Lionstar's eyes, flickering in the eternal moonlight overhead. Badgerstripe snorted, but Lionstar merely walked to the nest occupied by that final shimmering life. I don't care if I get a minute or another moon. I will not leave them like this.
He laid down, locking eyes with his father as he did so.
"We will wait for you, Lionstar." said Badgerstripe.
"We will hold back the pain as much as we can," Sandfur meowed, walking in to stand beside her first mate.
Rowanberry waved her tail behind them, where two she-kits bounced around her paws, unaware of this penultimate goodbye.
Lionstar's heart squeezed, torn between the burning desire to return and the profound aching need to stay.
"Where is Honeysong?" He glanced around, shocked to see her absent from the gathered spirits. Even as he spoke, more cats were gathering behind his parents. Familiar faces and pelts, but not the one he was looking for.
Sandfur purred. "Waiting for you in Falconstorm's den. She has not joined us yet, and refuses to until you are by her side."
Lionstar's throat tightened, and their forms began to blur, the crisp clarity of StarClan's forests fading back into stark, cloying reality.
✦✦✦
He woke up with Honeysong's scent on his tongue. Bleary, bloodshot eyes opened to the dark interior, numb in the heavily scented air of Falconstorm's den. He tasted copper and borrowed time.
"What do you mean you can't do anything? Get out of my way! I have to see him!"
His son's voice made his heart pulse with pain and joy both, and Lionstar managed to drag his head up from his bed of moss. "Brackenstride," he coughed, struggling to stay upright. "We taught you better manners than that."
A stampede of paws was Brackenstride's answer as the lithe golden tom pushed his way through, his sisters following, breathless with worry, behind him.
"Dad!"
"I'll get you some water—"
"No." He caught Ivyclaw's eye. "Stay. I need you all to stay. Send Sagepaw to get Gorsetail, Feathercloud, and Pumafang."
"Why?" Demanded Brackenstride. "You should be resting."
Lionstar's chest hurt with each breath, his claws flexing into the moss as he pushed himself into a righted position. As hard as it was to look his children in the eyes and tell them the truth, he thought of Honeysong, and drew strength from the love that had carried him this far.
"I am going to need you to be brave, Brackenstride. Lilybreeze, Ivyclaw. My time…" Lionstar's smile was gentle, but heavy. "My time is up. StarClan is calling me home, but I will not go without saying goodbye."
After an agonized inhale, the exhale came out as a series of wet coughs, and he could feel the jagged, angry wound of where Demon's fang had punctured his chest. StarClan had many strengths, but they could not perform miracles.
"When you were born, it was the brightest day I had ever seen. You made the world fuller, and made your mother and I so happy. I love you, even more now than when you were born. That you all live and enjoy life and continue to be a part of this Clan fills me with so much pride and relief. You were worth the wait. My three last blessings."
Ivyclaw choked on a sob, and Lionstar beckoned her with a weary sweep of his tail. They curled up against him as if they were small again, and he could feel Brackenstride shaking where their flanks touched. Wordlessly he laid his tail around his son, and Brackenstride's posture hunched, knotted up under the pressure to keep himself together.
Two figures threw the Clan entrance into shadow. Gorsetail and Feathercloud arrived. Lionstar chuckled, the memories overlapping before his very eyes. "Wormpaw and Featherpaw. My two apprentices. We struggled in the beginning, didn't we? But everything was as it should be in the end. You were patient with me." Lionstar first looked to the silver tabby she-cat. "I am proud of you, Feathercloud. Know that you could never disappoint me or lose my love and respect. I've watched you grow into the resilient, brave warrior I knew you could be, and a compassionate mother with the wisdom to grow and learn on that journey. You have been like a daughter to me, I couldn't… go without seeing you one last time."
Lionstar's posture sank slightly, his strength drained. He caught sight of the mess of dried blood, herbs and cobweb covering the wound in his chest. He felt his children press in again, as if trying to give him some of their strength and vitality. With closed eyes, Lionstar drew another breath and struggled on, blinking black spots from his vision to lay his gaze upon Gorsetail.
A heavy brooding presence darkened the entrance again. Pumafang. He would address the new leader of TreeClan last.
"Gorsetail." A lump formed in his throat, and he had to cough again to clear it. "No one's journey has humbled and inspired me more than yours. You were my apprentice, my warrior, my deputy, my son. You became the best of us, Gorsetail. Selflessness few can imagine. You gave more than I could have asked of anyone, and if I could go back to that moment, I would have given my life to spare you such pain. I… I need you to know that my faith in you has not changed. That TreeClan still needs you. Knowing you and Feathercloud and Pumafang will watch over this family - it gives me comfort. I still leave TreeClan's guidance in your capable paws, Gorsetail. Teach the young what it means to be a TreeClan cat. Remind them that there is no greater thing than love." I am so proud of you, Wormkit.
"Pumafang," Lionstar spoke again, this time his voice hoarse from so much use. The chest wound pulsed, making his breathing shudder and his body tighten under the sharp, agonizing wave. The faint starry outline of cats teased the edges of his sight. Just a moment longer. Please.
"Pumafang," he tried again, his voice a whisper. His three offspring shifted to make room for the deputy to approach and lower his head near the dying leader.
"I chose you for your strength and your capability. I chose you because I was angry, and you felt like an extension of my claws. I should have spent more time learning to understand you. I have been selfish, and I have been quick to judge. You are a good warrior, Pumafang. But leadership will test you in ways you can't imagine. Do not be afraid to feel things you consider weak or pointless. Sometimes by gaining a new perspective we can see what we would otherwise miss. There is no greater honor in my life than to give my whole being to this Clan. What I have given, I have received tenfold in the love and respect of this Clan. There is no such thing as a perfect leader. You will make mistakes. But you will triumph, because you work hard. Just remember, Pumafang, logic can only get you part of the way. Without vulnerability, strength will only carry you so far."
Lionstar… it's time, my love. Honeysong's voice drifted in on a breeze only he could feel. The pain in his chest was getting lighter. Fainter, as if he were losing his tethers to his mortal body. He felt… distant. Lionstar leaned into Pumafang's shoulder, his brow firm. "Tell them how much I loved them. Tell them I gave every life, every moon, every breath to see TreeClan thrive. I will be watching over you all from StarClan. My reward is knowing that TreeClan will continue to flourish, even if not by my paws. You have my blessing, Pumafang. You and your new family. Guide them well."
"Kits…" He grunted softly, and they reluctantly pulled away at his insistence. "There is nothing more for you all to see. Please, give the others comfort in my stead. I want to speak with each one, but StarClan knows I've already borrowed more than enough time."
"But Dad—" Brackenstride stepped forward.
"Go." Lionstar cut him off. "Let your old father go peacefully. I made your mother wait long enough..."
They came in a stampede, but left in slow, solemn footsteps. He could see them struggling, but he knew it was the right decision. Brackenstride was the last to leave, breathing hard and staring Lionstar down as if searching for an argument powerful enough to fix this. Lionstar smiled softly, sadly, his mouth dry. Let me go, son.
Brackenstride turned, and Lionstar heard a noise that sounded so very much like a whimper, before the lithe golden tom left him in the darkness.
The den was suddenly lit by starlight, and he could see the outline of his mate beside him.
Those beautiful eyes, that radiant, gentle smile beckoning him home. Was it selfish to wish for more time? To hold on to TreeClan for a little while longer? Maybe it was. He wouldn’t apologize for that wistful, final thought. With the quietest of sighs, he let the world go. The pain vanished, but the memories and the emotions stayed. His spirit shimmered over the shadowed husk of who he had once been. Honeysong purred, their cheeks brushing.
"Walk with me?" He whispered.
Honeysong tucked her head beneath his chin.
"Always."
leader of TreeClan
3600~ | @tagged | notes
so alive | background image | table by phoenix
"After the vigil, bury me beneath the Great Maple, where the roots are so deep and the branches so strong, there is no one in TreeClan I cannot reach out and touch. My soul will climb that tree to Silverpelt, and I will take my last look at this beautiful, precious thing I am leaving behind."
- Lionstar's Final Wish
195 threads. 9 apprentices. 8 years. 6 PRPs. One very grateful Fawn.
Thank you for letting me lead TreeClan for so long. If someone had told me in 2012 that I'd still be here eight years later, saying goodbye to a character I've literally grown up with, I'd have said you were crazy. I have so many fantastic memories with my golden boy, and they wouldn't be possible without everyone who threaded with me over the years. I poured my heart into playing him, and through him, into TreeClan. It's time I gave the reins over to someone else. <3
I love you all so very much.
Playing Lionstar meant more than you'll ever know.
Thank you.