˚˖❀ The Last Bouquet ˚˖❀ ( Remorabloom death SRP ) On the eve of greenleaf, the world was painted with lush colors once again. The grasses bent beneath the breeze and insects hummed in the leaves. Everywhere Remorabloom looked, something was blooming. Not with the soft colors of spring, but with the bold, ecstatic colors of summer. Trotting between the trees with his tail held high, petals rained from his pelt that caught the sunlight. Upon his head was a wreath of blue hyacinth, woven just earlier to complement his coat. “Oh! Al will love these!” he squealed to himself. The stout little seacat nosed through a patch of green-stemmed buttercups. Remy knew that his best friend always looked the happiest with green. He plopped himself down and tied the flowerstems into an arrangement of loops that resembled a flower with the yellow petals in the center. Tucking away his handiwork with a smile, he noted there was much improvement from the first “green” flower he had made, which was a spiral of looping grass. Sea-bunnydawn’s flowers were a tad easier to find. He wanted to give her a flower that matched her purple hues, but also a flower of the wildest form. It wasn’t long before he came upon a bush braided with vines of fragrant purples. Passion fruit flowers! As he picked a few blossoms, he felt the breeze brush past like a curious eye. It didn’t take too long to find some for Silvanberryshatter. After a few paces, a stretch of spires called to Remy. The tinkling laughter of his friend played in his ears as he bent to pick the blue delphiniums. Silvanberry would definitely love these majestic flowers! Remy tied them in a bundle and tucked them away for his friend across the border. Skipping along, Remorabloom suddenly caught the sheen of a green beetle. Oh! He wondered what Hummingbirddream would name it. And speaking of which, Remy thought to get flowers for her too. The bug enthusiast would surely buzz when given some pretty purple coneflowers! He smiled at the thought. He would ask her what insects coneflowers attract. Remy tucked the flowers beside the other before lifting his head to the sky. The evening sun greeted him with a golden coy. Time to head back soon! Remorabloom spun in a circle to survey his flowering pelt, practically glowing with satisfaction. Everyone was going to love them, and the thought filled his chest so warmly that it almost hurt. For a moment, a memory surfaced unexpectedly: his mother bending over him in the nursery while snow battered the camp outside. “The world will feel kinder in newleaf,” she had whispered softly. “Promise me you’ll enjoy it for both of us.” Remy fought against the pain in his chest, then smiled anyway. “I have,” he whispered, before he blinked away the memory but the ache still lingered. Remy began making his way back to camp from the Towering Forest, but it was not before he saw his favorite flower standing in the land between the trees and the streams. Oh! A white dais- The world tipped over and blurred. The flowers in his pelt fell like a downpour from the impact. Was he already tired? But his favorite flower was right there! He needed the final flower before he got home. Remy curled out of his ball of pain and turned towards it again, reaching. His mouth moved but his tongue felt too heavy. Was that a daisy? Or had it already been there longer than he remembered? A broken breath. He hazily remembered that he liked that white blur of color. So pure, so peaceful, like something his mother once described long ago. He reached out again, but his body had stopped answering him now. Still, there was no need to stop. His friends, the flowers, their smiles. Everything felt close! Like they were all standing just out of sight. Remy purred, or thought he did. The sound might have been the wind. They were there. They were not there. No, no, no. They didn’t get their flowers yet. Did he get the daisy? Or was he still trying to reach it? His mother’s voice suddenly came back, so clear that it hurt, flowing like a gentle caress around him. “Flowers always come back, Remorakit.” A tiny, dried blossom was pressed carefully into his small paws. Once so beautiful, now a papery, dimmed form. Alive one moment and gone the next. But the memory did not feel like a memory anymore. It felt like the ground under his paws. It felt like the sky was leaning closer. Then everything thinned. For one dizzy moment, he thought he saw Kelpblossom standing beside him. Warm-eyed and smiling softly beneath the greenleaf sun. “Mama—” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⊹ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⊹ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⊹ A gentle voice answered. “Hush, my dear... Look, I have something for you…” He opened his eyes. A starry daisy bloomed. ˚˖❀ End ˚˖❀
RIP whimsical flowerboy Notes below (please read SRP then notes): ❀ ❀ ❀ If your cat was mentioned in the srp, they may irp have the respective flowers that Remy was going to give them. I planted many symbolisms in this (and in his whole life story) that I think is really cool and I'm hoping you'll pick up on some :] (including how Remy /is/ the last bouquet since he had basically a bunch of flowers in and around him when he fell) And if you're wondering what exactly he died from it's from a silent myocardial infarction (silent heart attack).