Dovewing wouldn't have called her weak.
Still, Ivypool rested on the ground when thunder started to bellow from the sky. Still she hung her head as the rain fell. She still didn't feel strong, in fact her chest felt packed with stones. The rain was cold, but comforting. If she had the chance to pick out the weather today, it would have been this. Probably.
She did not bring herself to believe that possibility, nor anything else. Her clan wouldn't watch her beat a dead horse. They would all give comfort – with no small degree of sympathy – telling her everything would be all right. And maybe that would be true after a while. Probably.
It wasn't that she didn't understand what they wanted. The only acceptable action is to console; the culture of Clan life makes anything else heresy. So she accepted their words of empathy and swallowed them with a smile. There was no reason to ignore their words, like rain, things happen; nothing to do about it but mourn and move on. They weren't wrong.
Probably.
Time passed. Ivypool watched the sun emerge from behind clouded sky; the disk lowered itself on the horizon. She was soaked to the bone and could feel a small buzz flickering on and off behind her head. She didn't move when she saw Cinderheart padding up the gentle hill where she rested. Ivypool's heart plummeted.
Another cat to wish my well, huh? No thanks.
It was too late to move. Ivypool would let her say her piece, nodding where she needed to, speaking when promoted, and not talk about'it'.
"Room for one more?"
The mound was smaller than the den in camp, but not nearly as flat; easy to see from camp, but hard to sleep on. The winding juniper that occupied half the hillside weaved in the wind as she mulled over her response.
"Guess." she said.
"You're taking it as well as I hoped." Cinderheart looked troubled. She glanced back to camp, as if thinking something over. At the center of camp there was robust murmur with all manner of the clan lazed about. Outside the thicket a few outliers were grooming each other, sharing tongues as they caught each other up on clan life.
"You can talk to me, I'll be there, you know? Cinderheart delivered the piece. This one you responded with a nod. They meant it too.
Probably.
Oh come on you're being too harsh. It would help chase her off for sure, and returning to the dribble of the rain would be better than talking. Ivypool still wasn't sure of Cinderheart's intentions. Cinderheart didn't move from her post, standing solemn; she acted like a star. Her eyes bright and her words honest
Ivypool remembered being inspired by that attitude; her stubbornness had to have come from somewhere.
"You don't have to go through this alone…"
Cinderheart didn't come any closer. Ivypool suspected that she needed some muster to talk heart to heart, although that wouldn't come until Ivypool opened up.
"I know." she said. "I'm not ready."
"You have every right to not. I'd like to join you, actually." Cinderheart cracked a small smile "That is, unless you mind?"
Ivypool sighed, her forepaws folding in front of her. She did mind. She minded very much.
"Go ahead."
Slogging up the hill Cinderheart had looked like a dead cat walking. But around Ivypool, StarClan, around any cat, she just exploded to life - Cinderheart regained her soul. The setting sun now a beautiful mix of crimson and pink. The rays were blinding; Cinderheart moved in a way that accented those rays, shrouding her in a divine aura. She rested just in front of Ivypool, crossing her forepaws like so, then stared lovingly into her eyes.
That's just an amazing description right there. Just… go Ivypool.
Ivypool jerked her eyes, moving them offside. Maybe she thought she understood. There was no way Cinderheart could have of course, she had made sure. Still, the silence was uneasy. Ivypool was tempted to break the void.
She didn't just value quiet; the quiet was a byproduct of being alone. Alone with her thoughts. Ivypool couldn't think them aloud, not even within her mind. A twitch of the face, a single sigh, the all too real pain in her eyes. Ivypool looked back at her mentor.
"You hungry?" she said.
"No, but I can get a mouse if you want."
Fox-dung. Ivypool closed her eyes, sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time – and it may very well have been – before she craned her neck back, taking a deep breath
"Want to go hunting then?" she said.
"If you feel like catching something."
Ivypool scoffed. "The only thing I feel like catching is a good bump on the head." She opened her eyes, gazing up at the sky. The fleeting edge the sun's colors were visible, past that, the first touches of stars. One twinkled brighter than the others.
"They're going to be dazzling." Cinderheart said.
She smiled.
Probably.
Maybe it was that smile, maybe it wasn't. Cinderheart could have gotten it wrong, no cat was perfect, only a pawful were the kind of special that changed the world. The air became lighter, and the tension in her limbs faded away. Ivypool needed time; the world had changed. It was impossible to believe her life had been so hopeful, fulfilled, and crushed in the same day. Like something out of a dream.
Well… nightmare, but the point stood all the same.
She wanted to be alone, although the appeal of mucking around in her loathing and self-pity didn't shine anymore – not after seeing'it'.
"They are going to be beautiful tonight." Cinderheart repeated.
"Wouldn't put it past her."Ivypool shrugged. "Always been a show-off, you know?"
"As a matter of fact I do."
"Well" Ivypool said. "You're one of the rare cats who can say that."
Cinderheart giggled. If Ivypool bothered to keep track, she would have noted it as the first one all day. But she wasn't that obsessive.
She chuckled. She had been given many gifts, yet she would treasure Cinderheart's laugh until she herself joined the stars. Ivypool rose to her paws, looked out upon the setting sun, and smiled
"Think we can catch something before the sun goes down?"
Cinderheart laughed again.
"If you really, really want to." She said, climbing to her paws.
They heavy weight on her heart did not abate. She accepted it would be a while before it went away, if at all. It would be a long time before life ever returned to normal, if she ever felt alive again. The shadow of death left only scars, and she would tend those scars.
Ivypool looked up, filled with a sense of finality. She gained one regret today, still, that would not stop her. By StarClan she was Ivypool! Daughter of Whitewing and Brichfall; warrior of ThunderClan; destined to carry on the love and life of the cat who had captured her heart.
Ivypool turned around, gave her pelt a firm shake, then looked over her shoulder, eyes brimming with challenge.
"Definitely."