Dated back to when Pyr dies so like... a season or two ago before any yearling parties or yearling raids.

Sparrow had retrieved the body herself. There were wounds-  fur in her teeth that was not her own, the scent long washed over and covered by rot. This was not a murder per se- though it was no secret that Pyra had enemies and the she had oft sought them out on her own accord. She found trouble- the was the original most unholy sin. No one had come and burned their borders or killed their kids, so either there was a looming attack, or their vengeance on Pyralis had been good enough to sate the crime. Sparrow hated how pragmatic her first thoughts on the subject were, how rational and detached she felt as she evaluated the safety of the pack in the face of her old friend's death. She hated that that overall upset her more than Pyralis actually being dead. Maybe it was because she knew Pyra was old- she told herself that she had already mentally prepared herself for that. She didn't like the idea that she had grown so unselfish in her time that she cared about things like the safety of numbers over the safety of one close. Was this what it meant to be an alpha? Still, Pyralis deserved a good funeral. Sparrow knew it should be a party- that it should be free and chaotic and wild. Sparrow labored herself with gathering materials, helping Friar fashion a boat the size of Pyralis. She worked her paws raw and her gums bloody from tying knots and making sure the thing would both float AND burn. She made the plans and the props needed, not letting her packmates help more than she had to. Everything needed to be done and fast, but it just felt like twice as much work to try to dictate rather than to do it herself. Sparrow set up torches all along the beach and lit them as the night fell. Every pack member had their own little bottle of alcohol- watered down for the pups. She set it up so everyone could take a swig and pour the rest over the casket ship where Pyralis curled up all groomed and quaint looking with shinies and snacks and flowers and all the pretty things to make her look like the god Sparrow thought she would surely be if there was an afterlife. Sparrow took her turn first, giving a speech best left to the imagination. Sparrow wanted it to be meaningful, but she just felt empty- betrayed by the fact that she had no more feelings to give or that her body simply refused to feel them. She rambled on a little and drank more than she poured out. When everyone had taken their turn, Sparrow pushed the boat out to sea and swam beside it a while with Friar at the stern, his torch lighting the way. When it was time, and the tide had started to pull on the hull, Friar climbed to Sparrow's shoulders and dropped his torch on the woman's casket. It simmered at first, then started to take flame. Sparrow paddled back- this should be the time they started the party. Friar played his lute, and there was food and drink, but Sparrow headed to the ship alone. She needed some time to think.

Night hangs overhead, stars studding the sky and the darkness feels like a thick, stifling blanket hanging over the pup’s head tonight. Jack shifts from side to side, trying to stave off the chill in the winter air while keeping his gaze locked on the body in the boat. Pyralis had been a friend in the way that older wolves often find friends in the younger pups. If she had considered him such, the patchwork pup will never know. That, and all her secrets of what had happened, lay dead in the boat along with her empty shell.

A shiver races along the pup’s spine and he wonders if it is from the cold or the fact that she is so… still. Even with her advanced age, she had been able to keep up with the youngsters and it seemed few and far between (if any) that he saw her sitting still. A small sigh rolls out into the chilly air, the pup holding tight to the bottle of liquor his mother had given him for the funeral ahead. The torches flicker and dance with cold the breeze, sending shadows to dance across the beach. Yet she remained unmoving.

Death is not a foreign concept to Calico; he and Nico had hunted together and he knows the exact moment when life leaves a creature’s body. Foolishly, the pup had never thought that it would come knocking for one of them and never so soon. His mother finishes her speech and the area grows quiet for a moment, a lull as everyone waited for the next wolf to speak up. Eyes lock on the body that will never move again, the pup speaks up, saying, “Pyralis was old but still had life. I will never forget her. She was my friend and I hope she finds peace on her new journey.”

It is short, maybe sweet, but more than that, it is the truth. Lifting the small bottle, he was holding between his toes, Jack takes a long slug before following Sparrow’s example and pouring the rest over Pyralis. Once finished, he allows the others to do the same before the boat was gently pushed out into the tide. He moves to the water’s edge, allowing the waves to brush over his toes as he watches Pyralis boat drifting further out and he knows that she is leaving his life. When the boat began to lick with flames, Calico Jack tipped his back and howled a sad, soulful tune one last for his friend.

His mother returned and the party started, the pup quickly to assemble near the food and pile a plate high with steaming meats. There will be stories told, of the dead woman and the fun times that each wolf had and Jack will have a few to add to the mix. Laughter will do them all some good.


"Calico Jack"

Art & Code © Skelle 2023

They all knew Pyralis had been edging on the edge of well... death. Death was something hard to grasp if you had never been around it before. Explaining it to his pups had been difficult if he even cared to try. The thing was... Gil wasn't ready for the old woman to go. Out of all the pirates, Pyr had been the one willing to pick fights and go on adventures. He was there to keep her company. His favorite memory was when the two of them went to antagonize the secretive pack of Tojo-kai. While it hadn't ended well for him, Pyr had had a good time and that was all that mattered.

So as he stood there on that beach, having finished helping Sparrow set things up, Gilgamesh stood there. His goat-like eyes watched the coffin boat bob atop the water. Flickering torches surrounded them as he glanced at the small bottle of alcohol by his paws. Words were being said and memories were being relayed. Some lengthy, some short and sweet. For Gil, he couldn't remove the lump in his throat. He had never been good with words. Actions were more his style. So with a clenched jaw, he approached the boat and after a good long swig, he poured one out for good ol' Pyr.

"See ya in the next life," he whispered before returning to the group to drink until the sun rose.

"speech"

CODE BY SHELBY

She was gone. The old bat had finally croaked. And although he often tried to keep himself distant from others, he found that her absence left him feeling...sad. As if he'd just lost a good friend that he wasn't ready to lose just yet. He had helped to set things up in silence as he let the reality of the situation wash over him. He knew that someday Pyralis would die. She was old as fuck, so there was no denying it would happen sooner or later. But still, it didn't help to lessen the fact that they simply weren't ready. Did her Abraxas family know? Did they care? Did it matter if they knew? The pirates were her family...had been for probably longer, no? He didn't know a whole lot about her past, but it didn't matter. She had been the most Unholy Sin for a reason, and she had worn that title with pride! And now, here they were, gathering on the beach and getting ready to send her on her final journey to the afterlife...if there was such a thing. If there was, then no doubt she'd end up the new captain of the afterlife! As the boat began to launch, Ignis drank with the others and watched silently. Wondering when his own time might come... "Ignis"||"Blödhgarm"