[CONTENT WARNINGS: This SRP features a variety of topics, such as depictions of depression, grief, mentions of child loss, injury and death/near death experience.] ... “...And you haven’t driven away me. And you won’t. Because *I* care about you, Fire-Lilypaw. And no matter what happens, no matter *what* you do, that won’t change. And I will *always* be here for you.” “...Yeah, sure. You’ll eat those words one day, seacat.” “No, I won’t.” … It’s funny how the past often comes back to haunt you. Wildfirelament was no stranger to the notion. Her very self, the cat they were, the cat chirp strived to be, it was nothing if not wholly carved out of talon’s past flaws and sins. Lament. How fitting it was. How cruelly, yet so poetically fitting. That the one thing, the one decision that Snugglebugstar (or rather, dream, that cat was never deserving to be Falconclan’s star) ever made that Wildfire (or rather, once Fire-Lily upon the day of that ceremony) agreed so whole heartedly with was to be given that name. And yet, it was also frustratingly ironic. That Snugglebugdream named *HER* to lament. And yet, moon seemed to not even understand what that word meant. Never lamented a day in faer life, still hiding to this day in the barrens that star had fled to with their tail between their legs, abandoning the very family that fae shattered the peace of the clan for. Raspberryheart had tried at least. Xey relented their rank as a medicine cat to train as a warrior. He trained under Wildfirelament chirpself. And Wlam did **not** go easy on xem. Wlam was vicious, perhaps even cruel, with their training regiments. And yet, he never once complained. Never once gave up. Because say what you will about the former medicine cat, not a soul in the shores could say that xey didn’t try. Even if they never lived past re-earning his name. A part of chirp hated how much they respected xem for that, wanting to hold onto the anger that the fowl had felt before. The burning feeling of injustice that had been dealt to her clan and the cats she cherished most that still boiled their blood to this day. And the other part wondered why talon was still angry at all. Snugglebugdream was gone, Raspberrypaw was dead. It was all over now, and had been for moons. Falconclan had moved on, and here Wildfirelament was. Reflecting. Ruminating. …Lamenting. Still and forever, lamenting. How poetic. … …Wildfirelament really didn’t want to get up today. Most days as of late, the deputy didn’t want to get up. Some days were especially hard to drag themself out of chirp’s nest. Some days, talon wasn’t able to find it in them to get up at all. …Moons had passed. Moons since she and Water-Lilyredemption lost Glorycourage. Her son. Their precious little kit. Gone. Barely even a moment Wildfirelament held him close, whispering to him a warrior name as he was taken to Starclan. Starclan.. A place that Wildfirelament would never belong in, would never see. Not even could the hybrid take solace in the prospect of reuniting with Glorycourage one day. He was gone. Forever, he was gone… …Wildfirelament still felt as though they were drowning. Every day, dark water lapped at Wildfirelament’s paws. Wildfirelament was well accustomed. For as long as the hybrid could remember, the water had been there. Coming and going like the tide, but now, it felt as though it reduced to recede. It tugged at every step they took, making her paws heavy, their limbs ache, and every time Wildfirelament dared to stop, if only just to rest, greedily the water rose to consume them. To put one paw in front of the other, that’s all that Wildfirelament could promise herself some days, to trudge and march forward as the darkness rose neck-deep, moments close to swallowing them whole. Sometimes, chirp was able to keep herself afloat. Sometimes, talon wasn’t. Sometimes the water succeeded, pulling them down, sinking them below the surface like a helpless stone, filling their lungs and suffocating them. But the longer she stayed stagnant, the deeper they sank. Deeper and darker, when above the surface the world kept turning. When above the surface, there was a clan of cats who needed her. As their deputy. As their kin. As their mate. As their damather. It was for them that Wildfirelament found the strength to escape the water. Break the surface, and breathe again. Escape, and for them start marching again. (Cont)
(Cont) Watching, or sometimes even performing, the ceremonies of their clanmates, tongues and conversations shared at sunhigh, the routine of patrols and duties. The smiles of talon’s mate, the laughter of chirp’s kits. It made the days easier, the resistance of each step lesser. Sometimes, the darkness was merciful, and receded to mere puddles under chirp’s paws, and talon found they had forgotten the water entirely. But the respite never lasted forever. Like the tides, the water may wean, but it never left. Not truly. It remained there, cold and patient. And the moment Wildfirelament stopped, it rose once more. And right back under she was taken. Locked in an eternal dance with the dark tides, Wlam was. It was a part of them. It would forever be a part of them. …But Wildfirelament refused to let it define her. No matter how many times they were pulled under, they would find a way back up. No matter how tired they were, no matter how the water fought to keep chirp under. Because although Glorycourage was gone, her mate and other kits were not. They were there. They *needed* talon there, and not lost in her own despair and grief. Wildfirelament was needed. …And that was just enough to give the fowl the strength to push themself up from talon’s nest to sit. To breathe, to feel. Listen to the sounds of the morning. The rustle of the breeze against the brambles and canopy of the warrior’s den. The mountain bird’s morning song. Take a deep breath and taste the air still crisp and cold from the moon’s night that had begun to be chased away by the sun. …Today. All they needed to do was get through today. One small step, one small trudge through the water at a time. The deputy opened their one eye, and despite the mask and the low light levels of the early morning still winced as the little light that filtered in through the warrior’s den canopy hit chirp in the eye, aggravating their already present headache. Those have become increasingly common since Wildfirelament lost an eye, the fowl had found. Annoying, but rarely enough to be a true hindrance. Wildfirelament thus began their morning routine, and let their gaze quickly wander around the warrior’s den, among the sleeping forms of chirp’s clanmates. Friends, family, and acquaintances alike, the deputy’s sights passed over each and every one of them, studying their breathing, the restlessness or stillness of their sleep, the conditions of their pelts and feathers. Making sure none were too skinny, too worn, that all of talon’s clanmates and working warriors were in good health. Eventually the hybrid’s gaze fell to the prone figure of mottled brown feathers by chirp’s side, and their one-eyed gaze softened in the dim early morning light. Water-Lilyredemption. Oh, how *lucky* Wildfirelament was to call them her mate. To wake up beside them each morning, in a den surrounded by all the cats they cared about. Wlam remembered a time, self-exiled to the tree hollow at the edge of camp, when chirp could never dream of it. A low warble escaped the deputy’s mouth as they pushed their mask aside and gently rubbed the non-scarred side of chirp’s face against their sleeping mate’s head, careful not to cause them to wake or stir, before silently fixed the mask, standing from talon’s nest fully and silently padding out of the warrior’s den. … Next Part: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1334980362/
