Happy to Die [Open]

As the days carried on since the fall of the dark forest, Batglow thought he was getting better. The days were getting better and better, with infection slowly growing weaker and weaker as the days went on. One fateful night, the weather got bad, which caused the infection to come back something fierce. He hoped that whatever treatment Fuzzypaw and Basilbloom could give him would get the infection under control again but it didn't seem to be the case this time.

He was dying. He could tell.. His breathing was labored as he laid on his side in his nest. Green eyes dulled to the point they seemed to lack any color at all. As he thought back on his life he couldn't find a moment that made him hate what he had done. Where he had taken his life. No regrets what so ever, not even thinking on what could have been.

As he thought back Batglow was satisfied that Mothglow had been the one to find him. At first he wasn't sure if clan life would have been for him, but as he grew up under her care, and with the guidance of the clan, he flourished into a wonderful warrior. Even when the Asylum came, he did what he could to help his clan. How many moons ago was that now? More than he could remember that was for sure..

Then of course his mother showed up.. He didn't believe that she would come back to Shadowclan after all that time, but of course she had. If she couldn't have it, Shadowclan couldn't either, though he didn't know where Berry ran off too.. If he would be back.. Maybe he would. Pea didn't seem like they type to want revenge like Berry did..

After that finding a place with Mistyfalcon and Murkystar was amazing.. Something he never expected. He never thought that he would have another family after Moonshine and well all of his kits dying but now he did. He had a family. Some wonderful kits that had grown up and became fine warriors, with the others well on their way.

Of course the Dark Forest happened.. Which is why he was in this spot in the first place. He was trying to help his friends when one of their dirty undead had cut open his chest. There was something in the wound that the medicine cats couldn't get out, which lead to an infection. Something that caused him to retire.. To join Mistyfalcon in the elders den, despite Murkystar's saddness. He hoped that maybe he would get better, and for a while he did.. but look at where he was now. Suffering.. Because of this stars forsaken wound.. But he was happy.. This isn't how he wanted to go, but he was happy to die. His life was complete.

And as long as those alive remembered him.. well he would keep living on in their hearts.

Batglow wheezed one last breath.. One last struggling breath until the tom let glow, closing his dull eyes, letting his body to sink into the nest completely. A smile on his maw.

The Dark Forest claimed one last soul. One last death because of their doing.

Rosepaw walked into the nursery, a ball of moss soaked with mouse bile in her jaws. She hated the smell, she hated the taste, everything about the stuff was vile. Why did Nightstalker have to force this upon her? She hadn't even done anything wrong this time! She actually hadn't done anything in a while.... maybe she should change that.

She was going through her head, trying to think of something to do, and she immediately walked over to her Papa. Mistyfalcon had gotten enough trouble, she wanted to have some fun with her other father.

Dropping the ball of mouse bile, she climbed up onto Batglow. "Come on, Papa, let's have some fun!"

Nothing.

Rosepaw prodded Batglow. "Papa?"

Still nothing. And now Rosepaw was getting desperate. Something wasn't right.

She began shaking her father, desperately trying to rouse Batglow.

"Papa! Wake up! BASILBLOOM! SOMEBODY! HELP! HE WON'T WAKE UP!"

Snowfoot was feeling a bit frazzled. Turns out kits don’t always like to sleep at night, and her three were quickly teaching her how much of a pawful kits can be, even when you’re not the one nursing them. She’d just dropped off for what felt like the hundredth time, when something roused her yet again. Blinking and muttering in irritation, Snowfoot looked down at the kits to see which one it was this time, but for once all three were sleeping nicely. Suddenly, Snowfoot realized the sound was coming from outside the nursery. Someone was in trouble! She got up and slipped outside, hoping the kits would stay quiet. Following the cries to the elders’ den, Snowfoot found Rosepaw standing by the still form of Batglow. Was he… Wordlessly, Snowfoot turned around and went to the medicine den, poking her nose into the entrance. “Psst! Basilbloom!” she hissed. “Are you awake?”

The sun was beautiful! The medicine cat apprentice was optimistic. Today would be a good day. Fuzzypaw was gathering goldenrod and cobwebs. He had to double check that chest wound Batglow had. The tom scrunched his face. That scratch the elder got from the Dark Forest cat never healed, and Fuzzypaw swore he put everything that grew in the ground on it. There was a festering, not-right quality about the scratch on his chest that didn’t sit well with him. A she-cat poked her head into the den asking for Basilbloom. Something must have gone awry…

As he walked towards the mouth of the den, he heard another she-cat scream for help from the elder’s den. The fluffy brown tabby sprinted with his mouth full, just to walk in on a very sad sight. Batglow was curled, stiffer than stones, with Rosepaw standing over him. The tom padded up to Rosepaw, setting his herbs onto the ground, before he walked to the elder.

It was weird, seeing death. Batglow suffered a lot with his wound, with retirement. There was a sacred, liminal space where StarClan took them home. Well… almost everyone home. Fuzzypaw frowned as he remembered that Murkystar would not be there for him.

The tom watched Batglow’s chest, hoping for anything, but the stiffness stayed. Fuzzypaw walked up to the elder, smelling his face and body. Other than the not-right infection, he too noticed the creeping smell of death.

Fuzzypaw pursed his lips as he looked back at Rosepaw.

“He’s gone, Rosepaw. He’s walking with the warriors.”

“Please find your family, I’ll get some herbs and clean him up. We can have a vigil for him tonight.”

His features softened as he meowed quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Hearing Rosepaw's cries for help so suddenly in the otherwise quiet camp, Mistyfalcon nearly choked on the vole he'd been picking at. The thin tom swung toward the elder's den, ears flattening as his first thought was Rosepaw was pulling another prank. Fuzzypaw had hurried over too, and the still-thin Mistyfalcon felt his heart hammer in his chest. Don't let it be something serious...

Batglow's health had started to improve, Mistyfalcon had allowed the pessimistic part of him a rest to give way for a small sliver of hope that the tom would actually make a recovery. All it had taken was a spat of less-than-ideal weather for his condition to worsen once more, and Mistyfalcon had found himself struggling to cling to that scrap of hope at all.

He very much wanted to believe that this was one of Rosepaw's pranks. Batglow couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.

Fuzzypaw confirmed otherwise. Batglow's unmoving chest and the unpleasant scent of death confirmed otherwise. The very-real panic on his daughter's face confirmed otherwise. Mistyfalcon felt like he was paralyzed, throat constricting as his heart pounded painfully against his ribcage.

It was a struggle to force his paws to move, to stumble over to Rosepaw's side. Tail curling uselessly over his kit. There was no protecting her from this, he knew, nothing he could say that would bring comfort. He felt numb.

Frostgaze had been thinking over the changing of the guard so to speak, how many of the warriors that he had known as a kit were now elders... or gone. He sat within his new den, contemplating things that, really, he had no right to be contemplating. He could be thinking about new patrol routes, ideas for alliances with other clans, anything that a leader should do. Yet, his mind was always a constant whirlwind of thoughts, sometimes it was more of an annoyance than anything. Then, as there usually was, there was a commotion.

The tom wasted no time finding the source of the chaos. No..., was his only thought as he approached, making his way through the small crowd now surrounding Batglow's still body. Letting out a small huff of air, Frostgaze turned his eyes on Mistyfalcon, now that both his mates were gone... and in such a short time. "For what it is worth, I am sorry. Batglow was a wonderful warrior, and was a wise elder. He will be missed. Fuzzypaw," The soon-to-be-named leader turned to the apprentice medicine cat, "would you like assistance in bringing Batglow to the Medicine Den? We can bring him back out for vigil soon, but cleaning him up would likely be easier for you if the body was in the Medicine Den." With every good thing in the forest, there was the bad. Everything was a trade it seemed.

The next moments felt as though she was being held underwater. She couldn't breathe. She barely even recognized that others were speaking, only hearing muffled voices. She didn't even notice the tail that draped along her back. There was nothing. She just stood there, motionless, as though she wasn't fully present. And in truth, she wasn't.

Rosepaw's body started swaying, the presence of Mistyfalcon the only thing keeping her on her paws. Her mother dying never hurt, it didn't have to because she never knew Murkystar. But this was different. This was her father. And she may have still had Mistyfalcon, but there would never be another Batglow. No cat would ever replace her Papa.

Her paws seemed to move on her own as she pulled away from Mistyfalcon, slumping to the ground and burying herself in her Papa's black coat. She felt weak and tired. She didn't want to move. She didn't even have the energy to cry. The calico just laid there, motionless. She may as well have been dead, too.

Leafpaw heard Rosepaw's cries for help and ran over. she didn't know why she felt the need to help her sister-- they hated each other. but the pain in her voice made Leafpaw think that whatever happened would affect the whole clan as well.

the scent of blood hit her. then she saw the body. the sleek black coat of Batglow shone dully. everything crashed around her. Batglow... one of the few cats who believed in her as a cat, not comparing her to her siblings. whoever took him... they were going to pay.

Rookfire woke up to Rosepaw's frantic cries. Pulling himself up, the black tuxedo quickly stepped into the elder's den to see what was going on. The faint smell of death and Batglow's limp figure told him everything that he needed to know. The tom, Rookfire's old friend, was dead.

It didn't even feel real at first. He was healing, wasn't he? He thought that Batglow would have been okay and would eventually recover fully.

A few nights ago, it rained harder than Rookfire had seen in a long while. The black tuxedo remembered the mud that covered the entire camp the day after. Was that torrent what caused Batglow's condition to get this bad, this quickly?

As Frostgaze asked Fuzzypaw if the medicine cat wanted help bringing Batglow to the medicine den, Rookfire butted in. "I can help bring him to the medicine den," he said. If Fuzzypaw needed the right herbs to clean them, the black tuxedo could help with that as well. He wanted to at least help give a proper vigil to Batglow, to honor him in death despite being unable to save him in life.

It was the pain of a medicine cat, when it felt like he should have been able to save him, even when he really couldn't. He learned that feeling when he was still an apprentice under the Asylum, when he found his mentor's dead body. And Murkystar's death was equally as painful. Murky and Bat... two cats he knew well, two cats he was close to, dying within a few moonrises of each other.

Turning to his dead friend's limp body, he smiled at him. "May StarClan light your path, Bat."