the li[o]n's scream [Sundiata dies]

[um, the pirate ship is actually beached way up the shore, and the water inside the cove is fairly calm. maybe he could have been out climbing on the rocks, instead, and fallen outside of the cove?]

Voltaire saw a golden patch in the water and darted forward. The fearless leader could swim - a skill he had acquired over the years, seeing that it might be useful - and took a quick look at the situation to see if it were safe for him to venture out to rescue the cat - dead or alive. The waves were pushing it into a calmer area of the cove, so he took the plunge and swam out through the water towards the floating corpse.

[lol, no problem. I'll see if I can make it clearer in the guide ^^]

Voltaire sunk sharp teeth into the limp golden body and began to pull it towards the shore. It was tough going, trying to swim and manage a corpse at the same time. At least it was floating, not sinking. Voltaire's nose was clogged with wet fur, however, and he was having difficulty breathing.

Just as he was beginning to think that it might be the smartest idea to let go of the body and swim to save himself, his paws touched sand as a wave pushed him forward. Digging in, he dragged himself and Sundiata out of the water and further up the beach, where he flopped, extremely tired, and began to groom the saltwater out of his fur, grimacing at the bitter taste. "Did anyone see what happened?"

"What's happening?" Del Vallo teetered over to the scene and his eyes laid on the lifeless body of Sundiata. "What's happened to him? Why can't he move on his own?" the kit squeaked. He didn't yet understand what death was and didn't realize the cat was dead.

The young Maine Coon skipped over to Sundiata's body and sniffed it. As he pressed his nose to it, a cool sensation shot up the tom kit's face. "He's so cold..maybe we should lick him," The tom lapped his tiny tongue on the corpse's face.

Bump :)

"Dead?" Del Vallo repeated, not fully understanding the concept of death. "Does that mean...he won't come back?"

Voltaire was rather... annoyed at the water pulling him into the sand along with the foul taste of ocean salt on his tongue. But, no matter, such things were simple enough to ignore. And living near the ocean made it easier to push such everyday things from his mind.

Glancing around at each member present, he suppose none of them saw anything, due to the lack of an answer posed to his question. Shrugging slightly, he supposed that the manner of the death was rather consistent with an accident, so there really wasn't anything to worry about with that. Of course, if new information came up, then he'd do something about it.

In the meantime, there was no state of urgency.

Bowing his head slightly for his fellow Skull that was now, well, dead, he ran his tongue idly over his teeth. As he hadn't been attached to Flight's brother - nor, for that matter, did he wear his heart on his sleeve - the tough-edged captain couldn't find it in him to shed a tear. But that didn't mean he didn't feel bad for the loss of life.

"Yes, Del Vallo, that means he's not coming back," the brown tabby responded, lifting his chin now that his self-imposed second of silence was over. Unless he comes back possessing a body or reincarnated with his past memories intact, he added silently, but didn't say such things. After all, the younger was only likely to be confused further.

{ temping Voltaire for Dawny }

Silently, the captain nodded to Flight, the female he remembered to be Sundiata’s sister and only relative in the Skulls. It was only fitting that she would take him back to the pirate ship, rather than some stranger that hadn’t even known the member.

“Of course we’ll give him a proper burial,” Voltaire replied with a slight tilt of his angular head, his gaze turning to the sparkling ocean. It still seemed bright and glorious, but in a much more dangerous way now. His mind went back to when Damage’s first body had been killed by a human weapon. The sendoff was rather… strange in the customs of felines, but seemed perfectly natural when the group dwelled near the ocean in a pirate ship.

His gaze shifted back to the black she-cat, “If you wish it, we can give him a full send off, by wrapping his body with seaweed and allowing the corpse to float out into the ocean depths. Of course, since he is your kin, you can make the arrangements any way you like.” He knew it wasn’t much to offer, but denying such small control over the final resting place of the body would have been horrifically harsh, outside of Voltaire’s normal fellowship with each member of the group he led.

{ Temping Voltaire for Dawny. }

“That’s perfectly fine,” the captain meowed to the wench, his whiskers twitching slightly. His thoughts were running along much the same path as Flight’s were , and he didn’t see the use in bringing the dead male back. After all, the rather irresponsible kitten hadn’t done much to be noticed and had been incapable of leaving an impression of integrity.

But if his sister wanted to put herself through such a thing, he wasn’t going to stop her. It was a family matter, after all, something that he had no place in.

{ Temping Voltaire for Dawny. }

Del Vallo had stepped back from the body, and stood next to Voltaire. He was curious to see what would happen with this tom, and by now, it had sunk in the kit's mind that the tom would not be waking up ever again. Even though he was a complete stranger to the kit, the tom w a little sad that this tom would be departing forever. I wonder how his relatives must feel.

Del Vallo then recalled the yearning he felt for his own mother, who he hadn't seen for two moons. Though she had told him that they would meet again, the tom began to believe that he and his mother would never see each other again. That situation could help him to sort of relate to the tom who would not be waking again. The kit watched silently, his golden gaze focused on the body, then onto the cats who had talked.

"Where is the tom now if he isn't going to awake again?" The young cat had stared up at Voltaire, waiting for an answer.