THE BEARER OF BAD NEWS [o, Riverclanner]

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    TENA   Ebra


    The bear carried a bookbag, looped around his neck and sitting on his shoulder blades. Ivan had been given direct instructions- commands that Anakin had engraved into him for the day this came.

    He didn’t want to do it. He wanted Anakin. He wanted his protector. He depended so much on Anakin- depended on eachother, and now he felt lost. He felt like he was in danger and and Anakin wasn’t there to help him out.


    But Anakin had ordered him to do this. This, was just on the tip of the list. Finding the territory strained his feeble, diseased mind and Ivan could only pray he was in the right place.


    The Empire. The name made him uneasy and he didn’t know why.


    ”Need.... Tena! Ebra!”

    Well that was... Unexpected. The older sibling flicked their ear, a light frown shaping their maw. Did they know this polar bear? Something about him was familiar. There was RiverClan scent on him, so Ebra decided it was that. The sand cat figured their sister would be along shortly. "Hey," the Demdji did their best to ignore Anubis' sudden attentiveness, the shadow that they cast suddenly morphing into a jackal with ears perked in interest. Anakin's bear. Oh. Maybe he can explain that spike of pain from Lessa. "My sister'll be around in a few."

    AND I'M NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT!

    SUMMERSEND MARTELL-EGAN-GRIMM ♚

    the empire - watcher of the east - female - 19 months - tags


    ― Summersend wasn't too fond of people who demanded for her own people. So, stepping out of the tree she was in, she landed over the sand cat, fur bristling at the bear. "What is your business?" She meowed, not exactly showing any visible sign of hostility other than her voice.

    NOT A YES SIR, NOT A FOLLOWER

    tena moonspinner — the empire — she/her — tags

    "It's okay Summersend," the petite sand cat called, bounding over, her pointed ears flicking. "We have a mutual friend." Her clanmates' protectiveness couldn't help but make her feel a little warm. That was the comradeship she loved about the clans. Truthfully, she found it extremely odd Ivan was here. Why not Anakin? Ebra had, she believed, snuck off to visit Riverside for a few days - though for what purpose she had no idea - and the last she checked, that was the Skywalker family's home; surely he would have told Anakin where they were staying and gave him permission to visit? The younger Demdji could not help but be a little put off. If Anakin wanted to talk, why not come himself? Had something happened?

    ”Anakin.... wanted... have this.” The bear removed the satchel, and placed it in front of them, opening it with his teeth.


    It was writing, mostly- a mandmade, bound leather book. Papers. Stamps. Ink pens. Materials to make more books. Delicately chosen items- all wrapped in cloth- perhaps, tusken cloths. He brought it around, and took out another item- beads, a hankerchief with three circles on it.


    The book contained Aurebesh writing, a story perhaps, but the rest was blank, and Anakin had hidden the translation in the inside cover. You would have to look at it through the light to start translating it to english.


    ”There.... letter, too.”

    NOT A YES SIR, NOT A FOLLOWER

    tena moonspinner — the empire — she/her — tags

    "Oh, okay." The she-cat was growing increasingly perplexed. Anakin had sent them a message, it seemed. Why not just visit and talk to them? Tena knew symbols, knew more importantly the symbols of her people, but she could not read.


    Her head turned sharply to her brother. While she was Chelii, he was Kol-depuan. He ought to know how. It would be a predicament if he didn't; she doubted Anakin meant for anyone else to read what was meant for them. Of course, she doubted it'd be in English. "Ebra?"

    Ivan pouted, grumbling. They.... didn’t get it, yet. “Anakin... gone.” He couldn’t bring himself to say he was dead- “Left things.... for you.” Ivan gestured to the letter. It too, was in Aurebesh script. He pointed to the inside cover with his paw, then to the light, trying to give Ebra a clue, then prodded the envelope and made sure they saw it.


    “Tena, Ebra, Ikkalli, Upan,


    If you are reading this, I have died. I hope you find the hidden translator and you know someone close who can read... I find Common barbaric, but there’s little other ways to preserve my last wishes.


    I have left you writing materials- pens, ink, pencils, sharpeners, everything you need to make journals and preserve stories. I’ve made the first one for you.... and written in it.

    My intention, is to preserve every story of Ekkreth and Depur. I felt, in my post-mortem, it was wisest to ask you two to do this.

    I have started with my own Ekkreth story- How Ekkreth Learned to Fly.

    My idea, was to begin documenting every Ekkreth story, and the others...

    The beads- they were my mother’s. She made that for me. I felt, you could find something in them. She made it.


    Regards,

    Anakin Skywalker Ekkreth

    Ebra's ear flicked. Their shadow seemed taken aback, plopping down to a sitting position although the sand cat remained standing. They had not been close to Anakin. The only bond they shared was through a shared link to their culture. They helped him, of course, but mostly for the sake of reuniting with their sister. If there was one thing the Demdji had learned, friendships were not safe for someone on the run, so becoming close to Anakin had not been in their goals. Nonetheless, they murmured a soft prayer to Ar-Amu. Amu guide you.


    Anubis was oddly quiet, if only for a moment. The Egyptian was neither sad, nor happy. It seemed strange that Anakin was dead, but he knew it was true. They nudged their sister reassuringly. Indeed, they could read, in Aurebesh specifically. They were not, unfortunately, the best, but they could manage on their own for the most part. "..." That was... An interesting request. "He'd like us to write the stories; he's started with one already," they said after a moment, distinct blue eyes focusing onto their sister. They had quite a few stories memorized in between them, but there was as many as there were slaves in the desert. That is to say, they were without number. They were not often written down, as far as Ebra was aware; they shared it in tongue.


    They could respect the request, but they knew it was a task no one could truly accomplish. Did not mean they could not try - as soon as both of them knew how to write properly. They could read, so that was a start. "The beads were made by his mother. Perhaps, you'd like those, Tena," they assumed she would appreciate the sentiment behind them more. She'd cherish them, and keep them safe, they were sure.

    AND I'M NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT!