Feather's Farewell

It's been 3 years since I left her account, and I never stopped missing it, but I couldn't find it in myself to return. I finally did, clearly, as a different person on a different journey. Keahi is the new chapter, and with Feather's death finally penned out, I am closing hers. I've had her for a long time, from the first Alacritis site in Glaciem, on another site, to the new Alacritis. She never made it to Ardent, and she never would have, as she would've been 12. She was my pride and joy, and I'm proud to have given her a death she deserved, happy and simple and peaceful. The things she always yearned for.

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There is not much one can do when they are dying.


No matter how much the former Glaciem wolf would like to deny it, she couldn’t fight the fact that it was nearing her final days. The alabaster lady with the icy blue eyes was far too tired for much anymore, spending most of her time in the den trying to keep her frail body warm, a far cry from the fierce hunter and warrior she once was. She had been a wonder, a damsel who wasn’t distressed, who would fight tooth and claw for her home, for her family, blood or otherwise.


That was a long time ago, years had passed and things were different, she lived with her one remaining relative, the only one left surviving with her. Feather knew she could depend on Chayton, and when it came down to it, he was there as she lay in her nest, comfortably decorated with feathers and rabbit pelts. Whatever he had been able to scavenge up to help her keep warm and relaxed, he had found, had worried over her and fretted because he couldn’t stop what was coming.


She was dying. It was a relief to be happening due to old age, a sign she had lived a long and proud life, full of mistake and joys beyond measure. Feather had never had children, no, but she had watched her pack grow with litters and love, had left it behind when she knew it could no longer house her. She hadn’t ever turned her back on them, just decided her time to depart had come, and journeyed off with Chayton.


“You don’t have to be so glum,” the white furred dame spoke up finally, peering tiredly at her cousin, his multicoloured coat, still so shiny and soft, that worried crease in his brow and the frown that tugged at his lips. “I’m okay,” she soothed, huffing and holding back a wheeze as she pushed her weary frame up, motioning him to come closer. “I love you, Chayton. You’ve stuck with me,” her words were slow, labored, and she could note the increasing worry in his gaze.


“You’re using your energy, Feather.” The tone of his voice was stern, almost motherly like she used to sound to him. Despite them not being littermates, she was always caring for him like a sibling. “You should rest.” He was insistent, trying to coax her back to laying down, knowing she would get tired soon enough. She knew he loved her like a sister, but he was never good with emotions like that.


Feather shook her head slowly at him, giving an exhausted smile, “Lay with me, you know I get cold.” He obliged easily enough, settling his larger and heavier frame down next to hers, as she scooted closer, sharing his warmth. If she wasn’t as worn out as she was, she might have heard him say back, “I love you too, I’ll speak to you in the morning.” But she was swiftly sliding off, the tired that seeped into her bones overtaking her.


She passed on quickly, quietly and easily in her sleep. There was no pain, no sadness, just acceptance. The former Glaciem wolf had been at peace for a while with it, prepared to pass on at anytime, just hoping she would spare Chayton too much pain. He had already lost both his sisters, she hated that he was losing her as well. Soon, he would be too old to defend himself too.


The dame only dreamt of happiness, things she could no longer physically do but yearned to once again. She could give chase to prey again, run with her lost friends and family, she could spar, she could wrestle, she could swim and jump and howl as a community. All the things she lost as old age overtook her, her bones growing weaker and weaker by the day. Oh, the joy it filled her with as she could play again.


Feather knew it was time when, in her sleep, she saw a shimmering bridge, that seemed to lead away from where she lay. She could see her own unconscious body, so weak and small next to her cousin, a skeleton of who she once was. In her death she looked young again, back to her glory days, when she was at her prime and still part of Glaciem. She couldn’t resist going back to her cousin’s side and giving his forehead a parting lick, turning and letting her tail slide across his cheek in a motherly way, before she departed.


It was beautiful, as she ascended away from that cold den, the unforgiving lands that made her grow far too quickly, but made her appreciative of every tiny victory. She didn’t look back, didn’t spare a goodbye glance, far too focused on the path ahead. Upon entering the heavens, or the afterlife, whatever it was considered to others, she was greeted with warmth. Feather was reunited with her fallen friends and family, given licks on the cheek, playful swats, the love she missed and what once was. It was final, she had found peace. It was her final resting place.