Each pawstep was heavy-laden with the restrictions of age. Passing time had been cruel to the old tabby, whose coat had become more faded and lackluster over the moons. His steps were always faltered, no longer the spry young tom that he once was. In what seemed like another life, Carpsplash had been able to strike down a Thunderclan cat with only a few blows and almost match their speed during each skirmish. Now the short jaunt from camp seemed as far as the highstones. Ivystar might berate him later for leaving camp alone but even she knew that no cat could match the stubborn determination that had kept the elder alive for this long. Besides, with their territory rid of the vermin known as Asylum and leaf-bare slowly transforming into newleaf, it was the perfect day for a jaunt.
The weather threated rain, despite the pleasant breeze that stirred his pelt. With a thinned coat, it was easier to feel the icy chill that crept down his spine. Carpsplash tried to hurry and felt a protest from his limbs at the strain. All he could do was grit his teeth and bear the weigh; surely this pain was worth all of the struggle. How many times had he tread this path after all? Eyes traced the path ahead and if he looked hard enough swore there was still the fading memory of endless trails. Many cats had headed towards this particular clearing but Carpsplash likely held the record for the most paces on account of his seemingly eternal life span. The thought that surely his life would come to an end soon was both condemning and comforting to the old cat. It was the sight ahead that further served to highlight that notion.
Flowers once bright and blossoming had been rendered deadened and crushed by the moons of snow. There was a soft frown worried across his maw at the scraps of foliage. Soon buds and blossoms would spring up from the earth once more and he would return to the task of tending to this personally revered location. Few cats now knew the name of the warrior that had been laid to rest here. Dartfoot had been the kindest and most outgoing tom he'd ever met, and yet somehow equally fierce and convicted. Every now and then, Carpsplash would wake up with ghost sensation of a warm pelt pressed to his own. He settled down onto his belly with a soft sight, embracing the chill of the earth below. Each day without the warrior that he loved was both a blessing and a curse.
"I didn't forget about you, you know. Things got a little tied up in Riverclan. Surely the stars were watching despite this all. You probably already know... stupid of me to say..." Carpsplash trailed off with his gaze flickering to the grayed skies, "I was worried the whole time, entirely helpless to fight off the Asylum cats. I've never frozen in battle before. You and I have fought side by side countless times but... this time was different. I might have the soul of a warrior but I certainly don't have the body of one anymore." The rough crackle of his voice betrayed moons of exhaustion and labor. Sleep sounded fantastic, eternal rest but his soul clung to this physical life, unfinished under dictation of an unspoken duty.
"They need me, somehow, I hope. I can't abandon Riverclan just yet, as wonderful as it would be to be at your side once more. These young kits need direction and to remember the great clan we grew up in. Asylum tried to strip it away but they couldn't. I'll show that we're still here... Riverclan never left." His head touched to the earth, devoted to silence for a moment. Even if there was no voice stirring the soft fur of his ears, it often felt like there was still some presence soaking in the words that he uttered into the air.
"I miss you, Dartfoot. I'll never stop missing you."
His eyes closed and welcomed a tentative half-consciousness. Despite the lack of sunlight, he sunk into a state of peace, some semblance of relief after the lonely and condemning past moons. Everything felt right with Dartfoot, it always had.
