It was the day.
And he was happy.
Somewhere he lay forgotten, somewhere dying. Somewhere peaceful.
His solemn blue eyes followed something in the corner of his vision- a moth, or even a butterfly perhaps. No, a leaf. Just a leaf. A leaf so ordinary it startled him. Just a leaf. No, he decided. There weren't many things he could grasp in his frail sense of mind at the moment, but this was his leaf somehow. His leaf.
"It's my leaf. My leaf," he whispered, feeling drowsy again. Somewhere he felt oddly content, knowing that his leaf was beside him. A commotion sounded around him- he'd been found, then. Vaguely in the corners of his aching and abused mind he remembered himself falling, falling for the sake of helplessness. He remembered his head slamming into the rocky wall, remembered blacking out.
But he was conscious again. Although he was vaguely aware that this was not how consciousness was supposed to feel like, he was alive. And he could see that it was morning again, with soft fur fluttering around him, and a familiar scent as warm as the sun on his flank.
"My leaf," he sighed. He felt something rasp across his face but was too far gone to see what was in front of him. The wail that echoed piercingly around him and yet didn't come from himself scarcely pained him.
Somewhere, somebody could feel the world ripped apart at the edges. Somewhere she was wailing, somewhere she was nosing his black fur. Somewhere she loved him.
Somewhere he knew he loved her, too. And yet though he strained to see her beside him, he could see only the morning light dawning over a simple and plain leaf. Somewhere an ocean swayed around him.
Grief throbbed from her, she was watching him fade away. Somewhere he didn't care, but it was stale as if he knew he could not be lying any more.
"….leaf…." he wheezed quietly, his blue eyes fixed on the leaf once more, which suddenly didn't seem so simple. It hopped right off the ground and danced in the air once more as if nothing was holding it down. And as it danced, the leave spun off silver webs of color. He knew who she was, this leaf.
And somewhere among falling leaves and dancing silver, among the grief and the love, he died.
He fell away into the stars of the night where the silver danced in the eyes of silver itself.
And while somewhere his leaf grieved and danced for him and only him, he saw only silver, which spun herself with him. Together they roamed the stars, forever free and forever together.
And somewhere he was finally happy.
And together they sat in the silver stars, watching the leaves spiral in impossible performances. They saw lives flashing by, and yet they felt only love.
Love. Love. Love.
It was a feeling he knew that he had lost. Somewhere he had found it, and somewhere it was lost again. Now he had It forever and ever and his heart was swollen with utter and pure bliss.
And somewhere Crowfeather loved Feathertail, his silver dancing with the single leaf that he could see.
It was the day.
The day Crowfeather died.
And he could be happy.
A/n I got a little high on the love factor while listening to 'To Zanarkand' from Final Fantasy. Really lovely song.