. ⊹ ₊ ݁ requiem of a songbird ꒱ srp

Instructions

Gone. All gone. In the blink of an eye, everything had been taken away. Again. Heading home from the forest with a spring in her step, Starling had stopped by her twoleg garden to pick the jasmine flowers that grew there, a special gift for her first friend. Barely able to grasp the delicate stems, she was grabbed and shoved into a crate, the scent of panic and fear acrid in the air, jostled and bumped around, and finally emptied out onto a bed. She had sat there, for a moment, confused and dazed. The lights were too bright compared to the dusk of the forest. The door was sealed, the windows locked. No way out. Trembling, paws gently cradling the jasmine she had so lovingly picked, she stood up on shaky legs, startled by a rumble shaking the whole room. The twilit feline ran towards it, leaping onto the windowsill. No. No, no, no, no, no. Starling exploded into terror, a scream tearing out of her throat, eyes stinging, sobbing, slamming her shoulder into the window again and again. She needed to be out there, in the burning forest, burning with the cats she had grown to care about. Quailstar, so loyal and brave and hurting inside. He would be gone, each of his lives sacrificed to save a clanmate, his courage no match for any of this, his promise to Starling unfulfilled. Starling slammed into the window, again and again and again, as memory after memory engulfed her. Her mother, torn apart before her eyes. And now Quailstar gone too. And Saint, her sun-touched fur and wise, thoughtful words no match for the inferno, burned alive. Starling screamed again, clawing at the window, pushing with every once of strength she had to fight against it, one paw still cradled around the jasmine Star would never get to give her. Shaking, trembling, sight blurry, head throbbing and spinning, spots of darkness dancing across her vision, the scent of the jasmine overwhelming, Saint's golden eyes and Quailstar's prismatic one raw in her mind. Starling really was weak. She couldn't save her mother. And now she couldn't save Saintpaw and Quailstar too. She would never, ever be able to love, to make friends, to find her own family. Because everything she touched would wither away. Her movements grew weaker and weaker, her thoughts despondent, grief clawing up her throat. Summoning the strength for one final try, she pushed into the window, as hard as she could, paws flailing, a silent scream in her mouth. But of course, the weakling that Starling was, she couldn't find her was past it. Something inside her broke. Her ribs ached, her side throbbing. But that pain didn't compare to what she felt inside, a sensation worse than the burning of the lava consuming the forest, worse that claws ripping through her flesh, tearing her apart from the inside. Shaking even more violently before, tears streaming down her face, she curled up, head buried between her paws, the jasmine now wilted. She clung on to it like it was the only thing that mattered. Because now that everything was gone, maybe it was.