Not crying not crying sad fifi incoming oh no Trauma for my baby.. Trigger warning for a corpse and nausea, read with caution. In which Fikafrolic finds the body of his late friend Corn-snakecatastrophe. ———————————— Unsteady paws slid down a sand dune, scattering tiny grains still warmed from the heat of day. These paws belonged to none other than Fikafrolic, a young warrior. The base of his skull pounded continuously in a migraine, though when he tried to sleep he had no luck. So alas, the munchkin charged himself to the desert, stars strung above in the giant obsidian sky. It wasn’t just his upset stomach and headache that worried him; Fikafrolic had an uneasy feeling deep in his gut that something was… Wrong. Very, very wrong, though he had no idea what. Soon, however, this horror would reveal itself. As the moon crawled up the horizon inch by inch, Fikafrolic only felt worse. At this point, he was even starting to get a bit dizzy. Oh dear, that wasn’t good. He knew he should head back for camp right away, and perhaps even pop into the medicine den. The gentle, cool breeze that winded through the sands wasn’t comforting to him as it usually was, rather seeming to bite into his skin and cause him to be racked in shivers. Still though, he ignored it and pushed on. At the top of an incline, he stopped. Dead in his tracks. Dead… No. Oh. Oh no. Lying in front of his willow-struck gaze was a horrifying scene that seemed to be painted in rough scrawls against a backdrop of desert. The wind picked up and tugged around a familiar red coat that lay unmoving in the grains. Flickering shadows of deadly birds circled overhead, their ragged wingbeats like a morbid song in the night. Fikafrolic couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even process what was strewn out before him. His knees wobbled and his front paws slipped, causing the small feline to tumble down the dune and land a few feet away from the body. His own body seemingly paralyzed, the tom only managed to crack open his eyes. Another pair of emerald green stared back at him, dulled over and lifeless. A shrill, pained wail struck the night, and whether it had come from Fikafrolic himself or a bird abovehead was unknown. Tears began streaking down a pale snout, a snout that recoiled and paws stumbling in its body’s attempt to sit up. Waves of violent heat yet cold blistered Fikafrolic’s small body in radiation, causing him to violently sway back and forth. He would fall to his knees once more, nearly blinded by the tears and fur in his own green eyes. He was finally able to click the pieces together, and let the realization stab deep into his shaking heart. It was Corn-snakecatastrophe. The young cat’s oldest and very first friend, dead in the sand. Trembling ivory paws reached out. They brushed against cold, stiff fur and even colder skin underneath. It couldn’t possibly be real. This… No. It just couldn’t. As Fikafrolic managed to crawl closer, and curled his small figure in the curve of the red pelt’s side. His tail would rest over his entire body, covering his head and blanketing himself in darkness. And in that darkness, he wept. Memories of an awkward red kitten who had been willing to give his own young self a chance at a friendship. Hours slipped away like minutes, the midnight bleeding to dawn within a span of seeming heartbeats. It just wasn’t long enough. Though in a confused, grief-stricken, deeply lonely state, Fikafrolic knew his charge. The pale feline rose to his paws and tucked his snout under the crimson neck of his very first friend in all the world. He slid underneath Corn-snakecatastrophe, using his remaining ounces of strength to half-carry the limp form all the way out of the desert. The little cat finally collapsed in a small clearing, barely feeling the cool grass underfoot as he numbly slid the figure off of his shoulders. In silence, Fikafrolic found a small divot in the earth and hollowed it out further. This was a small piece of land between WindClan and RiverClan territory, owned by nobody except mother nature and the wild winds itself. Corn-snakecatastrophe was nudged into the hole, where Fikafrolic crouched and merely stared, his face too still even for tears now, though his face was still wet from the ones that had come and gone. He would reach down and gently take the old necklace from around Corn-snakecatastrophe’s neck. He lay it aside, and begun scooping cool dirt over the pelt. “Goodbye, old friend.” Came a hoarse whisper. Gently lain atop the dirt were the glittering emerald necklace and a single cactus flower taken from Fikafrolic’s tail, the petals brushed by the light breezes that came with morning. And so dawn turned to day, and day slid to another black night as the solemn grave remained untouched. Fikafrolic had returned to camp in a numb state, knowing deep within himself that he would never, ever let anything like this happen to someone he loved again. Ever.
Background from google, drawn over by me Music by Benson Boone </3 Quick note to Nix: Though we didn’t get to roleplay nearly as much as I would’ve liked, it was amazing having you play little Fikakit’s oldest friend. It feels like yesterday they were running around the cavern making little trinkets out of crystals and playing hide and seek as tiny kittens. I’m really gonna miss you around WindClan dude, best of luck with Claretkit. I mean it <3
