Finally, to Rest - Gingercoat

[ℳintу]

Creak.

The door to an abandoned old farm turned slowly open as the force of a cat struck its bottom, pressing as hard as she could possible. The cat was Gingercoat, a WindClan warrior who was rather young – only seeing two full years and a half of her life thus far. However, the past six months have been all but painless.

It began quickly; an infection that Swansong reassured her would fade within time. Though the symptoms were like related illnesses, the end result was something no one had expected in all of WindClan. It was a contagious virus that spread through the ranks quick as wildfire. Soon, Swansong became overwhelmed with the amount of patients rising every day. Gingercoat was included in these numbers. It started as an awful cough and spread throughout her body to the point that she developed arthritis-like symptoms in every joint of her body. Moving was a chore to her now. Next her fur began to shed in awful numbers – even now she looks more like a deranged Sphinx than anything. Lately, her mind began to deteriorate. Painful sensations began to find themselves being numbed oddly as her world began to distort itself to the point that she rarely remembered who she was, where she was, and what she was doing in the moment.

After six moons of enduring the inevitable (with Swansong’s help, bless her soul – how tortured she must be because of WindClan’s great misfortune), Gingercoat finally seemed to gain a grip with reality. Leaving the Elder’s Den (as she had been transferred because of her physical and mental state) she decided to embark on one last journey before her passing. This she did alone (on purpose) and near dawn when sleepy cats slumbered.

Gingercoat made her way through the camp, rather unnoticed, and set out for a destination. It took her most of the day, due to her leg pains, to finally reach the large, paint-peeling door in front of her now. The abandoned farm on the outskirts had always been a place she thought of as a second home – a place of true solitude. She had been here many times throughout her short life, and its unspeaking walls always found a way to console her. Now, in her last moment on this world, Gingercoat knew that this is where she wanted to rest.

There was a slight smile on her face as she lay down in the disturbed hay upon the floor, her heart beat slowing with ease. The pain began to drift away, and she could feel herself light as a feather – dancing around with friends like she had done when she was a mere kit. A light chuckle escaped from her lips, her mind finally at rest and peace. And there it happened. One last breath – her eyes closing with ease. And she released herself from this world, with the kindest of thoughts and hope in her last moment and breath. Just as she liked.

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occ | No one needs to reply to this unless you feel the need to find her dead body. xD This is just to make it official that Gingercoat passed away from the illness. I guess if anyone wants to post you can have them see her and go tell Swan? I dunno. Whatever works. xP

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[˚Reason˚]

It was a few days after Swansong had almost fallen off a cliff trying to get some herbs for the sick cats. Swansong had put it to the back of her mind, deeming it not important compared to the health of her clan mates. More prominently in her mind, was yet another failure to cure the disease that had plagued WindClan for over a moon now. More and more cats fell each day to the disease that she had no clue how to cure. Besides the ominous prophecy from StarClan three moons ago, there had been no word from StarClan as what to do. Going day by day watching her clan mates, the very cats she had grown up with and sworn to protect, were suffering around her. Worse, there was nothing she could do.

During her moons as medicine cat of WindClan, the she cat had seen a lot. Her mentor, Fallensnow had taught her everything she knew before she was moved to the elders den and eventually died from green cough. But it was never enough. There just wasn't enough knowledge in the territories, in the entire world that could help Swansong actually feel ready to take on the job of medicine cat. The supreme protector of the cats in her clan. The one who healed them of their wounds, both physically and spiritually. But she was a failure. She was nothing like Fallensnow. If only it was Swansong who had been injured, not Fallensnow. Then Fallensnow would be the one right now, standing confidently in front of her clan with a plan in mind and she would have had the sick cats cured within a moon. Unlike her predecessor, Swansong. The white she cat hadn't even made any cats feel better. So far the best she could do was stop the illness from spreading any further.

Despite Swansong's young age of twenty-six moons, and becoming a medicine cat at the age of eighteen moons, Swansong had dealt with many of her clan's health concern like a professional. But... that wasn't true. Sure she saved many cats lives but she could never save the lives of those close to her. It was like StarClan had cursed her. She could save the lives of cats who would scoff and mock her as soon as they left her den, but cats like her sweet mother Sageheart died right before her very eyes without Swansong being able to do anything. Then Morninglight had died from blood loss right on the battle field with Swansong desperately trying to stop the flow of blood to no avail. After that had come Owlflight, her strong silent sister who had saved Swansong time and time again from bullies. She had died giving birth to her kits who Swansong had also lost three days after the death of their mother. That left Swansong with her last sister, Birdtalon. After the death of Sageheart the she cat had hated Swansong with a burning passion that only deepened with the death of their two sisters. These deep worries hidden in the back of Swansong's ind had burst free like a dam giving the medicine cat nightmares that had her screaming as she awoke. Having disturbed Smokepaw a few time doing this, Swansong had moved her nest outside of WindClan camp. This gave her the opportunity to leave the clan in the middle of the night and go for a stroll whenever she wanted.

Like tonight; Swansong had been in the clutches of a dark nightmare when she awoke to the feeling of a light raining drumming against her pelt. Not willing to seek shelter back at camp, Swansong decided to sleep in the abandoned barn in WindClan territory.

Swansong's paws sloshed through the grass creating a squish sound ever time she put down a paw and mud seeped through her fur and soaked her skin. Shivering faintly, Swansong didn't hurry her pace, hoping the rain would wash away her bad thoughts. Despite it being leaf bare, it had been an odd week for weather. The snow had melted until small mounds were left here and there and left the ground hard with frost.

With her fur dripping with rain water, Swansong started to pray to StarClan, something she did very often lately. "There must be a reason for it all. I trust in you, StarClan to save me from all my fears, but your voice sometimes fades. I know this hurt I go through is all to bring me closer to you. In all the things that cause me pain, I do believe you will help me. I have seen hard time but there is a reason for it all." She murmured under her breath her bright eyes stuck on the invisible sky above her. The dark clouds that were pouring rain down on her obscured every star in the sky, not even allowing one to shine and give the medicine cat of WindClan hope.

Swansong could not help but feel as small twinge of disappointment but quickly cast it out of her mind as the farm came into view. Setting her sights on the barn, Swansong hurried her pace, now eager to get out of the rain and the acute feeling of the hair thin thread that tied her to StarClan that had once been so strong.

Swansong slipped through the open barn door and sat on her hunches, catching her breath from the short sprint. Not bothering to clean her pelt, Swansong warily glanced around for a place to sleep, only to have her eyes freeze on a figure laying on the ground a few paw steps away from her. At first Swansong was confused, having no clue what the shape was, the darkness of the barn only accented by the dark clouds obscuring the sky outside. When her eyes adjusted Swansong recognized the silhouette of a cat laying on the barn floor. The she cat stiffened, thinking it might be some stray loner taking residence in the barn and cautiously approached the loner, ready to ward them off.

now that she was closer to the other cat Swansong started to slowly recognize details. First of the cat was stone still, not even breathing so most likely dead - or playing dead- and it was a she cat. Almost right next to the she cat Swansong recognized the faint scent of death, disease (that smell she had gotten used over the past moon) and WindClan. Pausing, with the cold feeling of dread in her belly, clawing at her insides and blocking her airway making it hard to breath; Swansong took a final step closer. She instantly knew who it was: Gingercoat. The thing clutching her throat released its grip on her as Swansong let out a loud gasp and stumbled backwards away from her apprentice hood friend. Swansong's yellow eyes widened a fraction before all her medicine cat instincts came roaring to the surface like a charging bull. Running to Gingercoat's side she lay her head down over her friend's muzzle to feel for any breathing and kept her eyes locked on her chest to search for the usual rise and fall of a cat's ribs as they breathed. Feeling and seeing neither, Swansong sprang up muttering "No. No, no, no." She chocked pacing Gingercoat's body, meowing loudly to try and wake Gingercoat from an eternal sleep. Please," She uttered breathlessly. Seeing Gingercoat's body like these made Swansong feel like she herself couldn't breathe. "Not her." Was the only thing her panicked and anguished mind managed to put together. Swansong stopped pacing around Gingercoat's body and started to lick frantically at her chest, similar to how a mother would coax her kit to breathe when they were first born. Finding the fur cold and body stiff under her tongue, the panic seizing Swansong's mind turned to denial. Come on! This is Gingercoat! There was no way such a loyal, optimistic and good-natured she cat could be dead! H-How could that be?! She thought, not ceasing her frantic licking even as tears started to trickle down her face and drip onto the ginger pelt Swansong was trying to get some life back into. A wheezing scream came from her vocal cords as Gingercoat didn't so much as twitch.

Ignoring the obvious signs of death and frustration building up like a volcano in her chest; Swansong slammed her front paws on the ground next to Gingercoat's ears and let out a piercing yowl of pain and failure. it only got worse when Gingercoat didn't flinch from the sounds. Her breathing starting to become rather shallow and uneven the medicine numbly fell to Gingercoat's side staring at her with round blank eyes. Before her Swansong could see the bodies of her mother, sisters and ever other cat she had never saved. Now she had to add Gingercoat to that list.

Broken with grief, Swansong curled herself around Gingercoat like blanket and hummed a lullaby, only broken by sobs and hiccups as she continued to cry. After hours of this, Swansong fell into a restless exhausted sleep. WindClan could wait a few hours, right now, her best (maybe only) friend needed her.


Notes: Wow, since I created Swansong she has really changed. She started out as a rather fun, crazy character that really gained from depth and emotions that run really deep. Note to self: Adopt out Birdtalon
Words: 1531
Song: Stranger by Kaite Costello
Tags: Swansong, Gingercoat, Angst