BAI SHI - genderfluid(they/them/masc.) - melanistic 'cobweb' jaguar - tags - profile

the death of a distant loved one was agonizing, but the death of someone who was more than just a face in the crowd? that emotions and feelings and memories were attached to, and twined with? that, that was the worst thing in the world, because it was just like a festering wound, but no amount of medication or cleansing would make it heal any faster. it would take time, too much time to count, before one could begin to feel okay again, if there was such a thing as 'okay' after losing the said individual. death comes, and it sweeps away the innocent and the sinners, it doesn't listen to 'fair', and it doesn't come with a handy warning. one could be standing beside the victim and the next second deep to their knees in their blood and tears. death left very little of a trail to follow, leaving behind the broken hearts of the living stranded behind, and the decaying stench of the reaper as it exhaled and breathed in the soul of the dead from the cold corpse laying ready to be laid to rest finally, for a long slumber from which it would not again awake.

the weight of the living air pressed in close, muffling the sounds and scents of herbs and voices, the sleek black pelt of the jaguar meticulously groomed as he lay there, waiting to be given freedom that the soul had obtained hours before. small offerings laid about the empty corpse, hushed voices and hollow eyes sharing in the stillness of grief and death that hung over the clearing. in the night that the knight had been so savagely ripped from the living realm, the group had witnessed a new leader raising up. her reign might be celebrated by some, but the grieving had no time to give it much thought, except for when the vigil was taken.

the murmur of birds added to the heavy burden of those waiting, the screech of nightlife settling into a dull throb in the deafened ears of the grief stricken, the moonlight washing the chosen area for the vigil to be held. slowly, around the body, small unstable balls of white light mixed with yellow and purple, flickering too fast to be seen fully, leapt into life, small bolts of electricity leaping between the orbs too bright to look at directly.

sitting at the fallen male's side was none other than the one others knew as a traitor, soon to recieve their punishment. it was a lawless land now, in the brief times before the new leader delivered unto the group her demands. curling their claws deeper into the hot sand quickly cooling with the kiss of night, they watched the lightning that they had produced, observing as it lit kydobi adebisi kyrzoba in its harsh yet unavoidable light, revealing the lack of moisture in his nose, the resting position of his eyes, the limp whiskers and dull pelt. raising their head after a long while of collecting their thoughts and broken, spasmodic voice, the large feline would address the group of mourners, "pittians, friends and family, this is the vigil of kydobi. i do not ask of you to follow me in vigil, but i ask you to say your goodbyes to your former marauder, and to carry his memory with you, to try and live like he did in some aspect of your own life."

beginning their speech, they cast their blind gaze to his body, a shudder runnjng through them as they held back tears of pain and loss, swallowing. "if you wish to sit vigil with me, then please, feel free to do so. his soul is long gone amd his corpse cold, but i will remain at his side for three days and three nights, fasting and going without attention. on the rise of the sun of the coming day, we shall bury his body in the jungle which he roamed like his own paradise. let his ancestors guide him to their resting grounds, and let his soul guard those whom it desires." gathering strength to their heart, they curled their tail over their paws, misty blue eyes conveying their grief. he may be dead, but there was no way that they could move on. now ... they had a reason to live. a violence had woken in their breast that they could no longer smother, for it fought them harder than any physical body or enemy could. they wanted revenge, to feel that damned lion cowering under their claws and fangs ... no. there was no reason for rage and bloodlust to present itself here.

in their vigil, they would barely notice the passing of time, perhaps sharing stories of the deceased with those who took vigil, and maybe... admitting to the ears of those who heard, the throes of affection and love that bound them to the dead man. bowing their head, they began their vigil, alone.