Sacred Springs -- Oneshot; Open

[SirDio]

DRIFTING - FEATHER

There was so much happening. Too much. Guilt on her mind and a slowing silence that hid in her heart, peeking out and making itself known in different ways. Staring at nothing, abnormally quiet, less energy. She would be surprised if no one went to search for her as she sneaked out of camp, unsure of where she would go. The forest held that dreadful memory, the camp held the memory of silence and dread, but the ocean? The cliff sides where older warriors would hunt for aviary prey, where the connection cave was hidden? It held no harsh memories. Medusa had almost drowned, yes, and that deterred Drifting from ever getting close to a certain stretch of beach. But further along, eastward on the coast, the caves would hopefully give her solace.

Slowly making her way to the cliffs, she felt her body shiver. Muscles seized before relaxing, and she carried on. Following the base of the cliffs, hopping around rocks and such, she saw something glisten beneath the waters. Not even passed any important caves, she found something. Swimming out a certain stretch of water, she poked her head under to check. Despite the sting of saltwater, she found a glowing crystal. But not just a crystal, an opening. Big enough for Vaas to even fit, leading somewhere. Surfacing for air, the tiny beast dove back down and started to swim. Instantly a current caught her and began to carry her further into the darkness.

Darkness seemed infinite before she saw a thin thread of light up ahead. Air came back, breath surged in sore lungs. Finding herself floating in a lazy underground river, she was in aw of what she saw. A massive cavern, illuminated by glowing crystals of varying colors, a kaleidoscope of light and patterns. River became a stream, filling up a round pond that was a liquid mirror, reflecting the thin light that shined from a hole up above. Three springs, each one taller than the last, with pink water running out of them into an unknown river, hidden by stone and rock and crystal. It was beautiful, and it was hers.

Along the illuminated walls of the cavern, scrawled in a golden dye, were symbols and markings indecipherable by any means. A dead language. A depiction of a large moth-like creature, surrounded by three flames, was scrawled on the largest fountain. Steps led upward and winding toward the top of the fountain, leading to a throne-like structure. Crystal crown lay in the vacant seat, shining with the reflected light. Drift, shaking water out of her feathers, looked upon this sight and felt calm.

Calm.

She felt hundreds of bodies around her, yet saw none, as she walked toward the mirror pond. Looking into it, she saw herself, the sunlight. She felt fur against her, heard whispers on dead air, a language dead to her. Calm was replaced with grief yet again, and she felt herself force out a cry for the dead to hear. Mourning. Feeling tongue rasp against scales she refused to move, hearing calming tones on the air, faint the sound of music among the whispers, mourning with her.

For a brief moment, she saw something move beside her, golden and whispy. But it was gone when she looked. Focusing on the colorful patterns given by the crystals, she moved to the outer edge of the cavern and walked along with it, aware of the lost and dead bodies that followed, hushed whispers she couldn't understand, and grief was gone, replaced with calm.

It felt as though she was there for only an hour, but as she looked to the thread of light, she saw it was not there. Worried she wouldn't be able to get out, the spirits around her guided her with golden paw prints, leading to a tunnel behind the fountains. Following it led her to a cave she never would have imagined she would be at. The Connection Cave. But knowing the way home, she gently thanked the spirits who aided her and hurried off.

Entering camp was a dampener on her mood, the scolding of her guardian fell on deaf ears as silence again took hold, curled up at the edge of her nest, staring outside into main camp, at nothing while her mind continued to dance with the spirits, hum their tunes inwardly. The Sacred Springs were hers and hers alone. No one had to know, lest they force her to reveal where the safe haven was, would dare proclaim it a gift from their stars, and she would have to abide, quietly nod to them while having the feeling that the spirits would ignore her. Until she was ready, she decided, she wouldn't tell any adult that she didn't trust.

[RHINESTONE.]

LEADER ❝ RHINE ❞ PALMCLAN

Spirituality was something that Rhinestone had once clung to like a lifeline, using it as a guiding force as he had traversed life from kithood to when he finally became a warrior. With every step that he had taken, he had imagined that his ancestors were moving alongside him, the voices and spirits of Starclan proud of him as he went from Rhinestonekit, to Rhinestonepaw, to Rhinestoneeyes. Of course, when the ruddy tom had ended up stepping up from a senior warrior to his sudden mantle of leadership, he had expected Starclan to usher him into that phase of life as well. He had become leader through unusual circumstances, sure, but it wasn't as if he was betraying them. He had stepped up for the good of Palmclan, in order to make sure that they would all be alright, even in the wake of the horrific hurricane. Unfortunately, that day had been the day that his dreams had been dashed. He could still remember traveling to the Connection Cave, his heart pounding wildly as he had pressed his nose up against the cool surface of the Starshell. He had expected something, anything to happen. He had expected his ancestors to finally make themselves known, and provide him with the lives that leadership promised. Instead, he had been left with nothing but silence.

Ever since then, Rhine had carried that silence along with him, no longer able to feel the steps of Starclan in everything that he did. It was a sort of overwhelming emptiness, leaving him feeling pained, and betrayed. He had wanted to lash out, but he had ultimately kept himself silent, unwilling to say anything either way when he had an entire clan relying on him. After all, Starclan was still a part of the lives of many within Palmclan, and if they had known that Rhinestone never spoke to them, or received his lives... there would be a revolt. The mere thought was enough to make him sick, not wanting to be protested against and shoved from the position that he had worked so hard at, just trying his best to be a kind and competent leader. He didn't deserve to be ousted from that position, just because a bunch of cat spirits in the sky hadn't made themselves known to him. Well... made themselves known personally. Some claimed that Starclan had said enough, with every brutal event that had happened to Palmclan thus far, but he didn't agree with that. They had a rash of bad luck, that was all. No spirits involved, just... chance.

Or at least, that was how he had felt, up until Medusa's death. Now, he wasn't too sure of what was the truth. Down was up and up was down, and the leader held a heavy weight of grief on his shoulders, wondering if it was his fault the hybrid was gone. After all, they had denounced Starclan together, so what was to say that her death wasn't some kind of ironic punishment, meant for him? If that was the case, then he really wished that they just would've taken him, instead. He would've happily died to let Medusa go on living. It wasn't as if Palmclan couldn't replace him. Even if they didn't have a Deputy right now, someone would surely step up and keep them going. Hell, maybe even Medusa herself could've done it, with a bit of time. Instead, he was left without her at his side, having lost one of those that he had considered a friend. Not only that, but he had been left with a group that was collectively grieving, left without one of their senior warriors and someone who was like a caretaker to many. He knew Drifting to be one of those in grief, and he only wished he was able to somehow reach out.

That was why, when he heard the soft and scolding tone of Drifting's caretaker, he had lifted his head up from his nest, blinking slowly. His sickness was still getting worse, driving him to take naps far more often than usual these days. However, he was motivated enough to get up and step out of his den, ignoring the way that he temporarily felt nauseous, the world spinning around him. Walking over to where Drifting was laying, staring blankly from her nest, Rhine found himself coming to sit. The feline then tilted his head to one side, questioning, "Hello, Drifting... I heard your caretaker. What were you doing outside of camp?" He doubted it was anything dangerous, considering she didn't have a scratch on her, but there was still worry in his voice.

NEVER OPENED MYSELF THIS WAY
LIFE IS OURS, WE LIVE IT OUR WAY

— Reggan

[SirDio]

DRIFTING - FEATHER

Eyes, that were once wild and bright but became dull purple orbs as grief suffocated her, gave Rhine a passing glance, almost as if she hadn't even seen him sit down. His words nearly fell on deaf ears, but she forced herself to hear. Shifting in place, she shrugged, "Exploring. I didn't mean to be gone this long. I.. got carried away." She said tonelessly, tired and dull. It was mostly true. She went exploring, found herself a new safe place, got carried away, what, with the spirits that caught her attention, the feeling of many bodies pressed against each other. Now that she was in her nest, surrounded by the feeling of loss, she wanted to go back to the cavern, surrounded by lights and the feeling. She wanted the cavern.

[RHINESTONE.]

LEADER ❝ RHINE ❞ PALMCLAN

Seeing the darkness that lingered within Drifting's gaze... it caused Rhine's heart to sink, as well as ache with empathy. After all, he was feeling much the same way, stuck in a state of grieving for the warrior that they had lost. He wasn't quite as overt about it, but that was mainly because he hadn't allowed himself to be, trying to force himself to focus on other things. After all, Medusa wouldn't have wanted him to fall apart, would she? He had to believe that she wouldn't have, at least. For now, however, the focus wasn't on him, and he found himself hastily shaking his head. He spoke softly to Drifting, hoping that he could break through the young dinosaur's dazed look as he muttered, "Exploring...? Oh, well, that's not so bad. I can definitely understand, wanting to get out and see something a lot more interesting than this little den. I'm sure it wasn't really that bad, even if you got carried away. Your caretaker was just worried..." He hoped that Drifting wasn't feeling too bad, considering she didn't really deserve to. Yeah, she had done something technically wrong, but acting out a bit was understandable, considering their recent loss.

NEVER OPENED MYSELF THIS WAY
LIFE IS OURS, WE LIVE IT OUR WAY

— Reggan

[SirDio]

DRIFTING - FEATHER

Worry. Feathers bristled and she huffed gently. She didn't want people worrying for her. They should be grieving. Gently she reached out of her nest with a hand, gently running claws over the ground before she pulled her hand back. She could barely recall the sudden songs the voices whispered, words unknown to Drift but held such weight nevertheless. "I just had to get away for a bit.."