what is dead may never die (c)

Cindersky hadn’t rotated out of their life, exactly, but the slight distance that had grown between them was notable. Rookflight didn’t like it. It was a casualty of life, he supposed: they had both been consumed by other things, Cindersky especially, and they simply lacked the time to speak as they once had. It did not negate the friendship that existed between them. But still… Rookflight was far from fond. They enjoyed the days where it was them, Cindersky, and Larkspring; always together. But equally, they enjoyed the trio comprised of them, Willowwisp, and Sunpool. Again they were faced with the kithood dilemma of how to split their time.

But today was not for worrying about that. Today, they were blessed with a patrol at Cindersky’s side. Her doing, and intentional, they had no doubt. They rose to their paws followed her out of camp easily when Cindersky arrived at their side. They had been expecting a standard patrol, and were truthfully looking forward to walking quietly by her side and enjoying her presence. It caught them off guard slightly when Cindersky turned to them and began to speak. The question made their ears lower, but Rookflight did not turn away from it.

”No,” they said, ”ignoring it will do neither of us good.” He sighed. A tightness pinched his expression and Rookflight looked away from her, glancing down at his paws instead. ”I am… I cannot say I am well.” They answered slowly. ”I… ache. I do not know what to do. With myself, with anything. I do not know how to accept that she is gone.” Rookflight’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment until they shook their head and released another breath. ”But I am… managing. What of yourself?” He stepped closer and flicked his tail across Cindersky’s shoulder. ”How are you getting along? I hope you are not ignoring yourself in the name of duty.”

The gentle press of Cindersky’s nose against his shoulder was welcome. She had long since been one of the exceptions to his general displeasure regarding contact. Her touch was one of comfort. Rookflight leaned slightly into it until it was gone. The spot on his shoulder she had touched was left warm in her wake… and so was Rookflight’s chest. Releasing some of their grief through their words had eased some of the pressure off their heart, and knowing they had the presence of a friend nearby helped to soothe the rest. Rookflight did not realize just how much he’d missed Cindersky until her soothing presence was beside him again.

His head tipped slightly to the side to face her again when she began speaking, bobbling in a little nod at the sentiment. That was something he’d learned himself, as he grew older: that things were easier to deal with--or at the least, they were easy to forget--when one’s paws were kept busy. Distractions were welcome, even if they did not fully allay Rookflight’s grief. Their ears swiveled a little when Cindersky’s wandering eyes returned to them. They did not know the details of Cindersky’s… spat with Perchstar, but they knew it occurred. Rookflight nodded again. When they recovered from the gentle pushed that eased them out of the stone’s path, they stepped close to Cindersky’s head and bent close to return the gesture she afforded them earlier: the brief but gentlest touch, their nose to her shoulder.

”Do not downplay your own grief for my sake,” Rookflight said softly. ”It does not matter which of us was closer. We are both grieving--we are all grieving.” Their eyes traveled away again, watching the ground as it disappeared beneath their paws. They were quiet for several moments, letting Cindersky’s own hope settle between them before they proffered their own. ”I think grief is like snow,” he said. ”It is heavy, and chilling. It numbs and silences the world. But when new-leaf comes...”

He raised his head toward the sky and squinted against the pale sun. It’s warmth sank into their dark coat, and Rookflight registered it as one of the first pleasant feelings he’d experienced since Perchstar’s passing. ”It melts. And life reforms in its wake. So… we will do as all animals do in leaf-bare. We will stay close for each other’s warmth and comfort. We will remain until the ice thaws; then there will be a better world waiting for us, when it does.” His eyes returned to Cindersky and he blinked slowly. It was the only way Rookflight knew to express his affection; his warmth; his care. Whether they spent as much time together anymore did not matter. Cindersky was still one of his best friends. He loved her dearly. ”It was you who taught me to think that way.”

Rookflight nodded. ”That makes sense, too,” they said softly. Their tail flicked gently over Cindersky’s flank. ”I am glad it is less, now.” The words didn’t feel right, only half of what they could have said, but there was hardly a good way to approach grief. Celebrating the resurfacing seemed like a fair enough place. Then, steadfast as always, they returned her vow with an echoed, ”We will.” Rookflight was not entirely sure yet how they would--everything seemed impossible, now--but they would cling to the hope that they would continue onward in spite of this. That all of them would.

The conversation did not linger there for long. The air was growing miasmatic and thick, and so it was time for the subject to change. Rookflight squinted back at Cindersky’s smile, a warm expression of his own. ”I--” he started, but quickly paused. The mention of his friends’ names… made his ears burn? The sensation was similar to the burn of embarrassment, but… different, somehow. The longer he thought on it, the further it spread, until Rookflight’s entire face was gently burning. He gave his head a slow shake and confirmed, ”I have been.”

Her last words made his belly coil, though not unpleasantly. Rookflight was possessed by a strange urge to declare they were beyond the good sort. He blinked it away and settled for a compromise. ”They are. They are both--very bright, in their own ways. And kind. And-” Rookflight bit at his tongue. Despite deciding otherwise, he was teetering against the temptation to ramble. A pause, and then he quietly finished, ”...yes, they are good cats. I enjoy their company quite a lot.”