Fallen Tree Cove [M] And though the night seems long, Your tears won't fall forever

"Oh, it won't rain all the time, The sky won't fall forever, And though the night seems long, Your tears won't fall forever."

OOC: Open to any Cove wolves. Rated M for this is Moonshadow's death thread.

The morning was like any other, nothing particularly special about it. The sun rose in the east as it always did and shone its golden rays on the world below. The few birds that remained to endure the mountainous winter with them chirped among the trees. Small creatures either slumbered beneath the frozen ground or fitted about in the crisp morning air. They were on the cusp of spring…well most of them were.

Unbeknownst to anyone other than her, that would be Moonshadow Eastfall’s final morning. She couldn’t quite place her paw upon the feeling, but a call deep within her soul clued her into what would be taking place. Her uneven sleeping patterns had allowed her to rise in time to see the brilliant sunrise. The fiery oranges, reds, and pinks slowly turned into soft baby blues. The grey-phased woman sat along the shore of her beloved lake as she watched the change above the snow capped peaks that protected them. Her hazy gaze moved away from the sky to the glistening frozen lake. The morning’s glow bounced off the glassy surface as a lifetime of memories played through her mind. The Lost Lake was her home no doubt about it. Her spirit will forever be a cove wolf.

Cool droplets fell from her now white chin as Moon moved away from the lake shore for the last time. Large paws that were once strong and confident moved at a snails pace in comparison to how they used to as the carried the Eastfall woman back to the pack den. Her dampened sense of smell told her that her family remained inside. She silently debated on waking them or not. The last thing she wanted to do was burden them with something of this magnitude. While she felt ready in her soul she knew from recent conversations that they did not feel the same. Yet, thinking back to @Tulip and how she wish she would’ve been there for her and the pain knowing she passed alone, that was a far worse burden to place upon their shoulders. So instead she sent a quite chuff into the communal den for anyone who may sleep within, before making her way to Aquene’s birthing den to find Nash.

Her heart yearned to be with her beloved once more and didn’t want her loved ones to have to carry her. While the ten year old was much more frail than she had ever been, Moonshadow still had a large frame and knew she would be difficult to carry. No, she would walk herself to her final resting place. One last journey, though unlike the many she’s had in her life she would not be alone.

The walk was expectedly slow while the elderly woman walked from her current home to her first true home on the other side of the lake. Nash had thankfully been able to slip away. The last grand baby she’d ever meet lay sleeping inside with her mother. A sad pang went through the Eastfall woman’s heart knowing she’d never see her grow up, or her great-grand babies either. But it was time. Nash had taken up helping her on her flank, though Moon was determined, more than ever, to complete this as much on her own as she could.

Hazy silver orbs looked upon the rock slide where her husband rested beneath and a small sad, knowing smile tugged gently at her lips…soon.

Word Count: 572

(This post was last modified: May 08, 2024, 02:14 PM by Moonshadow.)

the only reason I am not openly weeping is because I'm at work and they will mock me.

His daughter had safely been born, beautiful and soft as all his other children had been. He already loved her dearly, and yet he could not find it in himself to be joyful.

And then his mother called softly to him and his blood ran cold.

He gently brushed his nose against Aquene's head, wishing terribly that she could come with him, but Jessamy couldn't be left alone, nor could she make the journey.

His paws felt leaden as he joined his mother. He didn't say a word, just trailed his nose up her neck before falling into step beside her, offering his shoulder on this terrible procession. His mouth was dry, his stomach churned, he thought he might be sick. But he held it in, held it together, tried to keep his head high even as his tail dragged. He needed to do this, but he didn't want to. He wasn't ready. He would never be ready. But she was, and he was here with her. His mother would not pass alone.