WINTER WONDER LAND // vigil

[Grimm]

[ set before meeting & tw for nausea / almost throwing up ]

Hazey voices spoken over top inclined head, running together syllables until they devolved into nothing more than meaningless sound. Expectation lacking, unexpected his presence among those who mourned over the fallen — to all leader, many a friend, others a mere common and accepted presence, and deemed a paternal figure to many of the children. Yet he had lingered even as preparations had been conducted, washed from ravaged throat the tacky blood, smoothed his visage with gentle touch, eyes closed.

He seemed almost asleep.

Peaceful the placement the eldest amongst their community guided him into, adorned ruddy strands with petals and stalks, lavender aside put for this, the stench decay brought obscured beneath purple buds. He knew it all the same, how it edged upon the sickening sweetness, an edge clinging beneath heady aroma, tickled nostrils by frail petals. Still was it there, the brine settled among rust hued strands, copper overlaid tongue chewed upon by grinding teeth, something his own. They might not remove it even as work continued, a halo the plucked flora encircling still body.

Hardly does he notice their machinations slowing, work completed and permitted those who bore the closest ties to ring him, shared those moments, sorrow briefly voiced before silence settled. His was this time, remembrance conducted as rest closed in, visitors upon this scene of grief only, other pursuits beckoning until few those who lingered. For them had he perished, permitting the sickness that had ravaged and eaten at the delicate internal tissue sign his death, anew begun the tears dampening silver cheeks. Almost he wished to reach for another, recognised the jagged patchwork, burnt auburn splintered beneath ebony, the scales adorned in dark strands her rage quelled, the multi-hued eyesore that canid made, beside lighter hued brother huddled.

Family they, accepted the one before as something more than their leader. Other faces clustered, settled in placement for the silence of frigid night that closed about them with a clinging shade, lost their identity, blurred the vision barely perceiving each in turn. All of them joined, if not by blood that painted their beings than by choice, chosen from the multitude that adorned the face of once empty Island, shuddering the breath he released. Within the wake of loss they had come together, accepted the inevitable for how cruel the vicious conclusion truly was, for a moment all laid to rest alongside the deceased.

"Love you… Dad." Hushed words muffled as nose was engulfed in chilled coat, close child drawn, a final night spent as the assembled prepared for their watch, disillusioned, yet supposedly hopeful. For a man as good and courageous as Rhinestonestar he deserved nothing less than eternal peace.

---

Confusion.

The organic compound mixed into a nest largely constructed of plucked strands of seaweed, moss, stalks of grass, and scraps of pelt lacking, chilled the grains that clung to sodden coat. Familiar the weight, another kind in blanketing those who lingered into the early hours covering, beneath still tremor set upon aching muscle, wound about nerves bearing frayed edges. Chore grown the act of rousing self from slumber, light and disturbed as it was, no different this instance that placed atop addition of unknown placement.

Forth extending paws, soft the texture that met, open forced eyes to perceive what mind had deemed only a dream. Proven falsehood this, still even beneath the pale illumination gracing breaking morning, activity slow, routine re-established without guiding hand. Quickened the beat relentlessly hammered against his ribs, disrupted each breath, harsh the coughing fit that seemed to have no end. It burned. Throat restricted, enclosed until the tight confinement was set ablaze, arising bile until it pooled in the back of his mouth. Acidic the tang as he forced himself to swallow, unsteady on retreat conducted with clumsy steps.

Few Foam achieved, collapse jarring, ringing his head with a dull tone, temples ravaged by building agony. Within did he curl upon the snow speckled sand, sole his focus on breathing, each rasping and harsh, punctured by coughing. Never still, once more left trembling, a violent shudder that allowed his teeth to snap shut, a ceaseless clamour the noise further joined by low pitched groans.

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when I was only twelve years old, my parents went walking, I hate those wicked words they'd say when they started talking. he was headed for the open road, she turned and slammed the door. learning love ain't easy child, when all you see is war

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code by Wisker

[number nine.]

To say that Rhinestone's death had come as a surprise would probably be the understatement of the year. No, the century. Even if Number Nine hadn't known the other as long as some members of the clan, he had still come to respect the leader, as well as everything that he did for his group.the other had been unwilling to give up even in the worst of odds, and that had been something that Nine had admired about him. Unfortunately, that had evidently been what had led to his demise, if his injuries were anything to go by. The leader had already been a sickly mess beforehand, but considering the canine scent that had clung to his pelt, and the once dried blood that had scrubbed from his neck... it was clear that his determination had done him in. If he had just remained home, and not gone hunting when something was so clearly wrong... perhaps he still would've ended up meeting his end, at the hands of the sickness rather than an outside threat. Hell, there was always the chance that Rhine had seen this as the more favorable end, considering it was much faster than just laying around and waiting for the sickness to finally claim him. Number Nine chose not to linger, however, finding that those thoughts only brought more pain, and more desperate wishes that fell on deaf ears.

The vigil had been beautiful, although that beauty still didn't take away from the strong sense of remorse that hung in the air. The jaguar had stayed at the back of the crowd, tail curled neatly over his large paws as he watched others grieve. He had cared for Rhine, yes, but he knew that he hadn't been as close to the other as his family, or his best friends. It was because of this that Nine kept his distance, his feathered wings practically hugging himself in a comforting embrace. In the back of his mind, he wished that Lewis was around at the moment to hold him properly. As the warrior took in a shuddering breath, he allowed tears to slip freely down his cheeks, staining his fur and splattering down against the sandy earth below. When he had been younger, Number Nine probably would've tried to keep his tears in at all costs, unwilling to show even a scrap of emotion and make himself look "weak." Now that he was older, however, he knew that emotion was natural. Grief was especially natural, when one had lost someone as important as their friend and leader of their group. Eventually, the winged feline was no longer able to take it, turning and shaking his head as he walked off. He needed something else to do, in order to get his mind off things.

By the time the morning had come, Nine could tell that he was exhausted, a pleasant ache in his bones that reminded himself that he was alive. He had spent most of the night hunting and training, doing anything to strain his body and his mind, so that he wouldn't be consumed by the darkness lingering inside. As he partially stumbled into camp, the jaguar was sure that it wouldn't be long before the eventual crash, when the energy would drain freely from him and he would fall into a deep sleep. Before that, however, he found himself pausing when he saw Foamkit's prone form. The boy looked miserable, and it wasn't hard to tell why, especially since he seemed on the very edge of vomiting. Frowning worriedly, Number Nine moved forward to lay a large paw against Foam's spine, questioning, "Foamkit...? Are you alright? Do you need me to get Vaas?" Without waiting, the jaguar turned and let out a call towards the boardwalk, hoping that it would be enough to attract the medicine cat. That was, if he wasn't already hanging around camp due to the vigil.

HELLBENT ON MAKING YOU LOVE ME TOO