[trigger warning for? i dunno, sadness, mentions of loss, grief, mentions of miscarriage?]
she didn't believe in a starclan, in a god, in an afterlife. she'd been taught from birth that you live, you die, and the only place you go afterwards is the ground, if you're lucky enough for someone to take the time to kick you into a hole. there were no star cats, no signifigance of the lights in the skies or the turning of the moon. it was all just the many forces of nature, and they shouldn't question them. what was the point, when there was no one to answer them? her parents never bothered to lie about their beliefs to help their children sleep soundly at night.
the moon was high, the night was silent, and sweetrose found herself laying in a more or less open patch in the territories, where you could see the stars. she'd crept out of the camp that night and made her way to this spot to watch them twinkle and shine. it had been hours by now, and tears had not only formed, but made themselves into a steady stream down the sides of her face. it hurt - no, it killed her, to see them as only stars in the sky and nothing more.
her parents were dead. dysfunctional and unhealthy as their family relationship had been, sweetrose missed them. they may have been neglectful, perhaps nothing even remotely close to loving, but they were still her parents. they'd taught her to hunt and fight as a kitten, they'd given her what she needed to survive in the world without them. so, they didn't cuddle her and sprinkle her with their love and affection. so, they weaned her early. the days when her hunts were unsuccessful, they did not give her food, she went to bed hungry.
they weren't good parents. they weren't the hallmark type. but they taught her how to survive in the world, they taught her to be who she was, to never take no as an answer, to not just accept things. they taught her that the world was beautiful and meant to be explored, they let her explore it just as soon as she could. for better or for worse, they'd shaped her. they'd made her who she was, they'd made her stronger for it all. and, in some fucked up sense, that was how they'd shown their love. they'd given her what it took to survive in the world instead of coddling her and teaching her that life was easy, because it wasn't. sweetrose knew that as well as the next one.
her children were dead. she hadn't known them, but she'd loved them with a fire she hadn't known she possessed. she'd lie in her nest at night, imagining them growing up, the three little bodies curled inside of her. she imagined them being lovers of peace and love, as she was, but as strong and determined as nightstar. his eyes, perhaps, and her long legs. she imagined the tilt of their little lips into smiles and the twinkle in their eyes. she imagined them as kittens, playing leader and mossball. she imagined them as apprentices, feeling the excitement and nervousness of a first love. she imagined them as warriors with lovely names, given to them by their father. she imagined them as mothers and fathers, as friends and lovers. she imagined them growing to be better, stronger, than she'd ever been. loyal and honest and hard working, not just following the code but truly believing in it.
she'd lost them. she'd failed them. she wanted to believe that they weren't just these little, frail bodies inside of the ground, dead and lost. they'd never smile at her or laugh. they'd never feel the sunshine and the breeze in their beautiful fur, the mud of the marsh beneath their paws. they'd never come home and tell her in these loud, excited voices, about their training or their catch. they'd never go to a gathering, they'd never gossip about some cute windclan boy.
her children, her babies, would never show the world how wonderful and perfect she knew, with absolute certainty, they were. they'd never get to know how much she loved them.
sweetrose lie there on the ground, body shaking with each sob that escaped her. the tears fell like rivers from her eyes, the sounds were breathy and strangled. it hurt, knowing she'd never hold them. knowing she'd never hear their shrill little voices scream "mommy!" as she entered camp. knowing she'd never get to tell them how much she loved them, how much she wanted them, how much they meant to her. the pain was physical, like a thousand claws tearing into her heart.
she wanted to tell them all the things her parents told her, all the sage advic. she wanted to sneak them out of camp to explore, just for a little while. she wanted to watch them grow up as she grew old and gray and tired. she wanted them to become leaders and deputies and medicine cats, once she and nightstar were gone.
it was ugly crying, tears flowing freely, snot dripping out of her nose. but she turned those eyes, two big, mossy eyes, to the stars. she didn't believe in an afterlife, but she wanted to. she wanted to imagine her children up there, laughing and playing, forever young and sweet and innocent. she wanted to imagine her parents were up there, telling her children stories, pointing her and nightstar out in the world far below. she wanted to imagine them giving her babies all the love and affection they'd denied her.
"i don't know if anyone up there can hear me," she said softly, her voice weak and cracking from her crying. "but if there is, i want you all to know that those babies are the best thing that ever could have happened to the clans. i want you guys to show them all the love i never could have. i want you to tell them how much i love them, how much i'll always love them."
she didn't believe in an afterlife, but she wanted to, because that was better than imagining her kittens in some hole in the ground, cold and buried in dirt, decomposing before they'd fully even formed.
the crying slowed, the sobbing stopped. she felt tired and heavy, cold and alone. her eyelids were heavy and fell closed, and the deputy slumped down on the ground. somewhere between awake and asleep, as faint as a whisper on the wind, she felt a chorus of little breaths on her face, smelled the sweet scent that kittens seemed to carry in their downy fur. and she heard it, she heard three little whispers, right in her ear, too faint to pull her awake, but soft enough to lull her into a reassured sleep.
"we love you, mommy."
[1149 words without ooc notes!!]
[so this is pretty much where sweetrose sort of 'moves on', per say. she'll obviously still miss them, but this situation, and the little whispers, will give her some sort of reassurance that they're okay, wherever they are.
sweetrose is now more or less leaning towards agnostic, but she still publicly claims that she believes in starclan, for the sake of fitting in. she genuinely wants to believe they're in a better place, but she still down't think any living cat can have solid proof. however, she certainly hopes that there is an afterlife, and all of that junk.
no one else heard the voices or saw them. they might have sensed something, but it could have been anything. they whispered directly in her ear, very quietly.
anyone could have seen however much you want, though it is the middle of the night, and she wasn't loud enough to be heard in camp. feel free to have your character approach her and try to wake her, or bring her home. however, she hasn't slept much, and will not wake up for a few hours, really needing the sleep.
this takes place three days after the miscarriage <3]