down with his ship [open]

ooc: click for more context iniko is dead, if you're a shadowclan-stationed asylum cat you're going to have to tell the story because tanglerose aint doing it

She was utterly silent for the entire journey, but she was dutiful to her mate. She was at the front half of the procession, carrying the weight of his head and neck on her coarsely tangled back. She was nothing more than a stubborn mule carrying the most precious of cargo. Other than her own reservations about tending to his most precious body part, she wanted to memorize the path. This was her first trip to their temporary camp, and she didn't want to look stupid next time she came. It would be nothing short of humiliating to get lost. Never before had she been so intent on making a perfect first impression. Perhaps she was overthinking it, and Inik had made his allies aware of his newest mate. But she could not be so sure. She was not a jealous cat, but she was vaguely aware that he was a romantic tom, and that his long line of escapades had ended with her. It was not so far fetched to assume that she was not that important to him... but she banished the thought.

They entered the camp to a chorus of shocked noises from those milling about, and the grey molly took great care to lay Iniko's body on the ground without a fuss. She regarded the collection of figures briefly, before clearing her throat (and the tears from her yellow eyes).

"Where is the cat called Theron?" she announced. "It's time she and I had a talk!"

"A talk?" an amused purr rose from the shadows as Theron stepped from the shade, tilting her head as she eyed the strange she-cat that she didn't recognize. The smell of ShadowClan was think on her - along with blood and...Ah. There was still body that caught the Captain's eye, drawing her gaze down as she quietly recognized the form of Iniko. He was...Dead? Her ears slicked back as she stepped forward - ignoring the she-cat who had called for her as she approached Iniko.

Her eyes flashed, darkening as she leaned down to gently touch her muzzle to his neck. "...May you and Ovi be reunited in death," she murmured, before she drew back. It...Felt impossible to come to grips with - the same doubt that had filled her when she had seen Pakhet's body impaled among the Moonstone while Finchstar stirred to life. She took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she felt anger rise within her. Anger was good, yes, but there was a time. A place. A growl escaped her as she turned, looking at the gray she-cat. "...You..." she started, leaning forward to study her. "...Must be Tanglerose, yes? The ShadowClan that smitten Iniko?" a faint smile worked its way across her muzzle. "Oh yes, he wouldn't shut up about you. He has good taste, I can see that - you are very pretty," she said, before she drew back.

"But...We must respect our dead. You wish to talk? Come - let the others room to mourn their captain." She turned, swishing her tail as she padded away. "First thing I want to know - how?" she asked, a snarl flavoring her words. "It wasn't a ShadowClan cat, was it? He talked about him having it under control - it isn't like him to misjudge so poorly..."

The simmering purr that escaped Theron's lips should have sickened Tanglerose, but the deep rift in her soul had left no room for anything else than the most determined form of rage. She had an itinerary to keep to. There would be no deviation... not for grief, not for disgust, not for banter. She had to accept the darkness, even when it thrashed, threatening to unravel her. It was that or death, and she could not achieve death until her lustful hunt for vengeance had been satisfied. Blood for blood.

That was why Theron was the cat for her, and not the Asylum Head. "You're bigger than I imagined," she murmured, "But much less articulate. You're right, let's leave them... I will mourn on my own."

Oh, she would mourn in private. She would tear a hole in the sky. She would shred saplings and kick stones into streams until her paws ached and bruised. She would rip her vocal chords, and she would dismember Carrionplace rats. There would be a crying out unheard of by any creature, big or small. TigerClan could have never fathomed such passionate fury. Despite it all, not a soul would hear it, nor see it, nor feel the reckoning of her spirit with the desolation of loss. It was greater than just losing a mate; Tanglerose had lost a future that held her last sliver of hope or wishful thinking.

The farther she walked away from Iniko's body, the fainter the thread connecting them felt. At some certain distance, she felt a twang, and knew that it was over. She had detached herself from him, and all the goodness he had given to her.

"I've heard a lot about you, enough to know that you might be able to help me," she explained when they were a considerable distance away. "I have been called many things by ShadowClan, but... My name is Tavora. It is what Inik christened me, in our nest, the night he died. We had planned to come here together." She paused, relishing in the newness of her identity. She felt reborn, like a phoenix, out of a blaze. It was fitting. "He died in a badger attack, defending a ShadowClan she-cat. She lived, despite her... fragility. I fought beside her for moons, and she was always yellow-bellied. Freckleface is what she's called. Puny and unskilled, which is why she fell so easily to the badger."

Tavora's claws churned up dirt, and she grimaced at the sour memory. She could no longer look Theron in the eye, for fear that she'd see the imbalance that threatened her. There was a very unsteady teeter-tottering between carnal wrath and despondence, and she stood atop it, shifting her paws wildly. "I loved him. Ever since I was an apprentice, I loved him. And he told me everything. I know your ways, and I know they're superior to the Clans. He offered me everything... safety, land, community, status... and asked me for nothing in return. He told me a story about what we could build when the Asylum finally took the forest, after there was no ShadowClan left to hold us back. But there is nothing left to build in the forest. Not without him. When your work is done, I want to burn it down. I'll watch it smolder, and I'll warm my paws on the coals."

Her eyes snapped up, more desperate than before. "I don't care what you do with me, so long as I'm one of you. I've already been instructed in your ways. Theron, I'm going to finish what he started. Put me in a pelt and assign me a faction. I implore you. Release me from this pain. Please!"

Having spent more of his life in Asylum’s camp than the lands beyond it, Pyrik was accustomed to seeing cats return home with bloodied forms draped across their backs, predators’ bodies ready to become Asylum’s sacred pelts. For one peaceful heartbeat, he saw the procession as that, and nothing more. His mind knew better. The atmosphere was too heavy for a time of celebration. It felt almost like the beginnings of an ambush. A gasp from one of his older factionmates solidified his fear. Abandoning his half-eaten mouse where it lay, he wove through the gathering cats to get a better view of the group plodding into camp. The scruffy face at the front of the line wasn’t one he knew…but he knew the face of the cat she carried all too well.

She laid Captain Iniko in the dust gently, without a sound. Pyrik folded. He’d watched WindClan bury their dead with something between horror and nausea. This was both of those and so much else. To him, those cats had been almost nameless. They hadn’t wanted him; they hadn’t trained him. They hadn’t looked at him and seen something worth training. His ears rang with a request in a stranger’s voice, a purr from Theron in response, all of it faint, growing fainter. They were leaving. Whatever strand of control he’d managed to grasp slipped, then, as if given permission to do so. His fox pelt lay in his nest on the moor, too far away to hide behind. There wasn’t time to retrieve it. There wasn’t time to run at all. He shoved his muzzle between his forepaws and the solid earth, and sobbed, just aware enough to try to stifle the sound.

Dawnhawk had been told to come to headquarters... seemed like he was bouncing from one funeral to another. His eyes landed on Iniko's patchy pelt. He remembered even calling him "Patches" when they first met. What a fun time that had been... Dawnhawk kept his one-eared fox skin around himself to take the edge off of the wind, but it also let everyone here immediately know who he was.

"Rest peacefully." He muttered to the body of the asylum cat that had recruited him in the first place. He sat down, waiting to hear other cats' words and maybe get some insight as to what had happened. His injuries didn't remind him of cat inflicted injury... so something else had happened. His eyes went to Theron as she lead away the Shadowclan cat that Dawnhawk himself had wanted to meet. Tanglerose? That name felt correct in his mind. She was in the same position as him. A traitor to her clan. How had she fared?

Right now she was busy talking with Theron, but he was able to pick up bits of their conversation. A badger... that sounded about right with the injuries he'd received.

"He was a good tom. I don't think he was even capable of a temper." He'd never seen Iniko angry. Not once. He had wondered before if Iniko's soft-heartedness and mild mannerisms would get him killed one day... and now it had. Well, the Standards will be needing a new captain it seems. But who?

---

Ivory had followed Tanglerose to the Asylum Camp as she had asked. She had been willing to tell Theron the entire story that she knew. She had remained silent, trying to be respectful and allow a quietness for the other cats here to mourn Iniko. She hadn't gotten to know him very well before this happened, so while she felt a bit of sadness at that fact, she was otherwise numb to it.

An orange fox pelt caught her eye... and her ability to speak entirely left her as she took in the sight of the one-eared fox. One-eared fox. Ivory herself froze in place... and Tanglerose had the unfortunate task of delivering the story to the authorities handed off to her. Ivory hadn't meant to do it. Her breath had caught in her throat and her heart pounded in her chest. As the silvery golden tom approached Iniko's body and spoke, her eyes couldn't leave him.

She herself was covered in her silver fox's pelt... a pelt she chose specifically because she knew her father wore a fox as well. She stared at him, stiff and tongue-tied... while he spoke softly about the Standard Captain. Her captain. Dawnhawk didn't seem to notice that she was there... his thoughts were somewhere else.

That was okay with Ivory for the time being... she wouldn't be able to speak right now if he spoke to her anyway.

Theron wanted to laugh when Tanglerose noted that she was bigger than expected - but it didn't feel the moment to make light of. Theron's heart buzzed as they two padded away, waiting for an answer of what had happened to Iniko. Anger boiled in her chest, rage toward the Clans. The death of Pakhet, Ovi and Dae had been one thing - perhaps, deep down, she could understand that it was fair - it had been war. ...But Iniko? They were trying to bring the Clans together under one paw - his death was...Unfair. And she waited for the words - the words she would need to set the Clans alight. That it was their fault - it would be the rallying cry of the end if she had her way. She had always enjoyed poking at Iniko, to see his reactions...

But he had meant the world to her - a familiar face to snark back at her...Gone, so brutally like the ones that she had loved.

Finally, Tanglerose spoke - or...Tavora, as she quickly stated. A name that Iniko had given her, his final gift. She came to a stop as she turned, face darkening in anger and annoyance as Tavora explained that it had been a badger. He had died protecting a ShadowClan cat but... She huffed - it would not be enough to reason razing them to the ground. Not yet, not without another reason. So, they would carry on with their work. She listened as Tavora described the she-cat that he had saved - a weak thing, unskilled. Theron's whiskers twitched, eyes narrowing. Perhaps a cat like that wasn't worth anything fighting, but everybody had a place within Asylum. Hm... Her ears twitched as Tavora switched onto discussing her love for Iniko - what he had promised her, her place in Asylum. Her desire to burn it to the ground.

Oh, she could work with that.

Then, there was the plea - assign her to a faction, give her a pelt. "Do not fret, Tevora," she said, smile crossing her muzzle. "We have a place for you - we have a place for all. I hear your strife, your heartbreak. I know it, I felt it. I hold distain for WindClan as you do for ShadowClan - they stole the love of my life from me countless moons ago - but even then I fear my pain was nothing compared to yours. But you do not know enough of our ways," she added, her smile turning into a toothy grin. "Rise, Tavora. Your pain will sharpen your claws - you will rise as a Nightstriker. Iniko could only teach you as a Standard, but I'll finish his training and make you into a force that ShadowClan can't even dream of. When we are done, those who stand against us will feel the pain they put on us tenfold. As for your pelt..." she turned, padding toward the Nightstriker den with a thrilled lash of her tail. "That is up for you to decide. Come, we have options - you can pick the one that speaks to you, and if none...Well, we can see about finding something personal for you."