The Silvered Heart of an Old Oak (Open after Maple and Moss post)

It felt like only yesterday he had gone to the Moonstone. Where he had watched his daughter become the leader that ThunderClan needed. When he had fought the hard battle between StarClan and the Dark Forest pretenders. When he had watched lightning come down and strip the lives of a cat he had been leaders with. He had drowned once, in a river to a friend. Had lost his lives to illness, to valor, to love.
   Now, his world felt strange. Colours once so vibrant… looked washed away. A leaf fell before his own muzzle, washed and silver. It had happened so quickly, and yet so slowly. The ache in his chest dragged weary coughs from his throat. His pelt, which should have been thickened with winter, was ragged and patched. He could scarcely eat a mouse, his body felt cold except for where he felt his mate curled around him.
   Those scars that proved beyond a doubt her capability to fight… but no cat could fight the inevitable. His chest tightened, throat stung at a breath that lodged in it painfully. His muzzle pressed into her pelt. The scent of familiarity, of warmth and love. No matter what had happened, he had always made it through because he had her.

   "I hope… my dearest… our daughter is the warmth to lead the clan through coldest times..." He whispered the words through a throat too tight. His muzzle buried in soft grey and black fur. Just beyond, he could see the entrance of the medicine den. The paws and shapes of cats he knew, and ones he didn’t.
   Too many moons had been spent in the medicine den. He had missed the births of many, regretted the loss of kinships to some. Spent moons in their comforting presence. Chuckled at kits, and nurtured them.

   Now, it was time.

   Fear made his chest tighten once more. What waited for them now? What things would they face in their future? Would they be ready? He blinked, shades of silver bloomed in his gaze. Body relaxed in the embrace of love and comfort. They would be fine. His amber eyes closed, to welcome the silver filled forest. Massive oaks with silver trunks and delicate whispering leaves welcomed him back. The warmth of his mate still at his side as he nuzzled her cheek.
   
   "I love you." Silver tears dripped where her form disappeared. Silver grass taking up the space she once held beside him. He had to let her go. It wasn’t fair to bring her to Starclan before she was ready. Even though his heart ached terribly from their separation already. "I will wait for you. Forever."

Visions of hares raced within the depths of Dustcloud's mind, her heart soaring as she chased them across the forest, with Oakheart by her side. They were balancing on the threads of their youth in this dream, as they had in so many others- scars missing from their pelts, silver fur no longer peppering their fur. They were no longer bound by the pains in their joints and muscles and were instead limited by the brink of their own imaginations. The young warrior still had the speed which she'd inherited from her WindClan father, evident as she began to pull forward ahead of the young Oakheart. Something was tugging at her though, causing her to lag behind. Oakheart kept running, eventually turning back to face her. It was almost as if her paws were rooted in the ground, woven within the ground stronger than the thickest oak tree.

Her vision of the hares darting through the forest faded soon after, the starry realm of dreams falling to pieces along with it. When she opened her crisp blue eyes, Dustcloud felt her heart drop. Nestled within her fur was a ragged, elderly Oakheart, struggling with each breath that passed his lips. The past moons had been practically unbearable for both of them... But for Oakheart, the symptoms were undeniably more physical. The tom had been unable to muster the strength to eat, and his pelt hadn't thickened as it had in previous years. The scrappy cough that usually accompanied the weather they were experienced was arguably worse than usual, as was evident with the crackling of his voice. Mid-thought, Dustcloud was interrupted by his hoarse mews, and her heart shattered as she realized what was happening. She wanted to cry, to scream out for Mossbloom and her daughters. She wanted to writhe and twist, to fight the stars themselves for what they were taking from her.

Tears began falling down the elderly she-cat's face, steadily streaming down as she buried her muzzle in her mate's fur. "O-Oakheart... W-Why now?" The scrawny she-cat mustered, her usually crackly voice taking on an even more sorrowful tone. When her cries elicited no response, the elder realized that it was too late. "I... I l-love you t-t-too." Dustcloud had always imagined both of them leaving for StarClan together, peacefully in their sleep... Not wasting away the way that Oakheart was now, and the way that she likely would as well- without him. The thought of being alone frightened her, but the thought of carrying herself through whatever else life had to offer frightened her more. Just the idea of being without Oakheart made it feel like she had a hole in her heart.

The only comfort that she could find was in his final words, letting her know that he would wait... He'd be there for her, dancing among the stars when she finally joined their ancestors. She held him closer, the creeping feeling that she couldn't get close enough closing in already. There wasn't even an echo of a breath within his chest- Oakheart was gone. Dustcloud's chest heaved, dry sobs radiating from her weak lungs as she buried her muzzle deeper within her late partner's pelt. She knew that he was better off in StarClan, where he felt no pain... But it felt as if her chest had been split one thousand ways, her heart fragmented into millions of shards. The she-cat felt hollow, more than she ever had before. For the first time, she was at a complete loss. Her world seemed to drain of color, her heart felt completely empty... For the first time in a long time, Dustcloud felt completely alone.

Mossbloom popped her head into the elder den with her daily herb bundles in her jaws. The scent of recent death immediately caught her attention, and her gaze focused on the couple curled next to each other, one motionless, and the other whispering in a cracked voice. Eyes wide in disbelief, the herbs dropped from ehr jaws before she backed out of the den again, returning after a few moments with rosemary and mint, as well as some extra ragwort and thyme. Approaching on silent paws, she nuzzled Dustcloud's cheek gently. "Oh Dustcloud, I'm so sorry... Here, chew these... Do you want some more time with him alone, or shall I get some warriors to go ahead and move him for the vigil?..." Setting the ragwort and thyme in front of Dustcloud, she set to work rubbing the mint and rosemary over Oakheart's pelt, the memories with the old tom flitting through her memory. Tears sprang into her vision as she tried to focus on what she was doing, grooming the tom with the utmost care and respect.

ThunderClan had all felt rather nostalgic recently, with Oakheart taking a turn for the worst. It was expected of course, the seasons growing colder and prey becoming harder to find, but the wound was never any easier to deal with. Pinefrost was only an apprentice when the tom stepped down from leadership to allow his daughter, Nettlestar, to lead. It didn't come as a surprise to the clan, seeing as how Oakheart was one of the oldest cats among them. He'd retired to the elder's den with ThunderClan's endless respect. Dustcloud, Pinefrost's former mentor and Oakheart's mate, visited him often, fetching water and prey everyday for her love.

The clan grew rather silent this night, however. A tragedy took place in the elder's quarters, as Oakheart had left without his great mate, Dustcloud. They'd always been expected to make the journey to StarClan together. As Pinefrost ducked under the lichen, he could sense the sadness in the air. A great loneliness in his former mentor's frame as she sobbed. Heart breaking in two, Pinefrost came to rest gently by her side, green eyes glazed over. "I'm so sorry, Dust." He whispered, trying his hardest to relate. Pinefrost had felt great loves before, in Beecloud, in Ferretnose, in Harefoot. But who he knew would break his heart the worst in passing was the ever steadfast Thrushnose, who now resided in the nursery with a kit that did not belong to them. She was the bestest friend a tom could ever ask for, always down for whatever scheme was on his mind. And now, as Pinefrost sat in solidarity next to Dustcloud, his mind drifted to her, and their many adventures. She, along with the rest of his family, was something Pinefrost treasured greatly. It must have devastated Dustcloud, then, to lose her greatest treasure of all. Oh, stars. Pinefrost stroked her back gently with his tail, blinking away tears in empathy, letting the night pass onward.

Nettlestar knew her father was old. She knew his condition had been worsening. She knew he probably didn’t have long.

She knew all this, but that didn’t make it any easier when it all proved true.

She saw her mother. She saw Pinefrost and Mossbloom there with her. And she saw him. Dead.

Her back legs buckled under her and she sat down with a thunk. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She had no words or expressions. She just sat there, staring forward dumbly.

She sat like that for a moment, not knowing what to do. Her whole body felt monumentally heavy, and she didn’t know how to muster the strength to stand back up again.

But eventually she did. She pulled herself back up on her feet, pulled in a shaky breath, and walked up to her mother.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she said quietly, “I love you,”

She stood with her mother for a moment, smiled sadly, and then turned around and left.

She would sit again with them later for the vigil. But until then-- and after-- life would not stop for grief. There was a clan that needed her. A clan that her father had trusted her to take care of. And so she would go on.

Daisybloom had been worried these past few moons. Well, she was always worried, actually. To rephrase that; extra worried. All the cats that she was really close with we’re getting a lot older. Her parents, of course, retired to the elder den. Mossbloom had made it out of one bought of sickness, but what if another one struck this leaf bare.

She had periodically checked in on the elders recently, and it was today when her mentor did it herself. After hearing the tones of the cats in the den less than happy, she dropped what she was doing and barreled into the den. They had to be alright, didn’t they? Everything was fine, maybe one of the elders hurt themself a bit or something, nothing to worry about.

Sadly, when she wanted to be wrong, her suspicions were correct. Oakheart was gone. It was expected, it made sense, but that didn’t make the blow any less harsh. ”Oh!” was all she managed to choke out, brushing her head against her mother and her tail against Nettlestar. Tears streamed down her face as she remembered when he had lost a life to a snake. That had been different, he used to have lives to spare. Now he had none. Her blue eyes were sad as she looked at her mother.

But they could make it through this. The family had suffered so much loss before, and this was no different. They could power through, because they were at the very heart of Thunderclan.

The days were getting colder, frost creeping out into the open after longer nights, his own pelt starting to lose its summer sleekness and grow fluffier. Minkstream padded over frost-free grass now, in the clearing, the scent of bark and bracken still clinging to his pelt from a recent patrol, his thoughts elsewhere. A voice from the elder's den caught his ear, and his head came up, eyes catching a tail disappearing inside. Hmm?

Wandering over, he approached just as a familiar silver tabby slipped out. "Nettlestar?" Her usually majestic posture seemed... weighed down. He knew that look. Immediately a feeling of dread flickered to life in his chest, and he leapt forward to the entrance of the elder's den, a cold chill starting to creep upwards from his paws. Dustcloud? Oakheart? The scent told him before his eyes adjusted from the light outside, and his paws rooted to the ground as he saw the still brown figure, too still for sleep.

Oakheart, the tom he'd known as Oakstar - who had taken him in with Batbite - was gone.

A quiet breath exhaled from his maw, his eyes closing as his head dipped, sobs and quiet sounds of grief in his ears. There was no use asking if the tom was truly dead - this time he wouldn't come back. Bat needs to know.... In truth, he didn't want to hang around yet another place of grief, another moment of sadness in the endless tapestry of such that seemed to make up their existence. He dipped his head to Mossbloom and turned, eyes searching for the pelt of his mate, a heavy rock in place of his heart.

Dock, and now Oakheart.... There's nothing I can ever do to stop it.

Batbite had noticed the small crowd gathering around the medicine den, dread growing stronger as she approached. She caught just a glimpse of Dustcloud and Oakheart, but it was enough for her heart to shatter; the sight of her mentor, one of the only cats she'd ever loved as much as her father, still and silent - of his mate in tears - was too much for her to handle gracefully. The rest of the sights around her faded from sight, and it took every bit of self-control she could manage not to start wailing on the spot, though her mask was slipping now; she fell to her paws as close as she dared to tread and tears fell from her eyes.

"Oakheart," she wailed; she was the type to hide her tears, to keep her silence, but today she failed. Oakheart was all that remained of a simpler time; he was what had led her to stay when she came back to ThunderClan and found her brothers gone. He was her mentor, her deputy when her father was leader; a leader in his own right for much of her life. One of the only authority figures she'd ever respected, even when they disagreed - and, most importantly, he'd let her go and still taken her back; she'd loved him like a father since she was only a kit, and now she let herself show it.

And then she was there, and he felt the world fall away from his paws at the look on her face - a feeling he knew too well. Something broke in his heart as he stepped back towards her, his maw opening - to reassure  her? What could reassurance do? A memory flashed into his mind - a scream ripping through cold, mountain air, an utter feeling of loss. The world had flitted away, leaving him behind, falling, falling, through a dark void without even the liberty of ground to claw at. Even if he'd had the strength to.

Her wail echoed through the camp, cutting through his chest, and he found himself at her side without knowing how he'd gotten there, an echoing ache in his heart making him grit his teeth as he pressed his body to hers, supporting her as best he knew how. "Bat...." His hoarse voice couldn't choke out much more than that - all he could offer was himself as he squeezed his eyes shut and curled his tail around her. Any platitude he could offer wouldn't help, not in this moment.

Not when everything broke and shattered into a thousand glittering shards of agony.

---

Sablepaw had wandered through camp, restless, when sudden wailing and voices brought her head up. Her eyes widened as she saw the cats gathered around the elder's den, confusion turning to alarm as she spotted the black and ginger pelts outside, her mother shuddering with tears and her father not much better. Hesitantly, she started forward, the short steps quickly turning to a bound as she raced up, distress squeezing her heart. Wh-what...? A quick glance through the darkened entrance made her ears flatten, the scent of death wafting out with Oakheart's smell. Granpaw? She felt her heart drop like a rock into her paws, her tail hitting the ground. But.... She'd known he was sick, but... Oakheart was strong, he'd been a leader.

Tears welled in her eyes and she ducked her head, turning to her mother and father and nudging Batbite's black fur. "Don't cry, Mum. Please...." She swallowed, trying to force a smile. "He... he's alright. He's gone to StarClan, right?" She could remember the old tom talking about their ancestors, his eyes full of deep wisdom like the stars themselves. Maybe he wanted this....