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+--- Thread: Redhawk Caldera when there's nothing left to burn, (/showthread.php?tid=66183)
when there's nothing left to burn, - Killdeer - July 25, 2025
"History doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes." Mark Twain wrote that. Not as if Killdeer would know who that was, anyway, or even grasp the meaning of written words to begin with.
But could he read and comprehend, he would find himself very much in agreement with Mr. Twain as he ambled hesitantly home.
It had started with a damn cat, too close to the Caldera for his liking. He had only intended to distract it, lead it away by sound. Alas, he'd misjudged his position, and the creature had pounced—literally.
He shuddered as he remembered, the moment of impact coming to him as the shadow of the mountain began to fall over his patchwork pelt. Teeth set in his nape; an inch on either side, and he'd perhaps have been dead just then, or at least crippled for life (however long it lasted). Claws striking, again and again, cutting deep gorges into his flesh.
It was human intervention that had saved him, and Killdeer would never even know the heated arguments that took place on the matter of his mortality.
Was it their place, after all, to intervene in the delicate balance of nature? (More sentimental voices won out.)
None of that mattered to him now. He lived, thanks to modern medicine and sheer dumb luck. And yet, he found even a near-death experience lacking as an explanation for his abandonment of his wife, his newborn children, and his ancient grandmother.
How did Bronco deal with it?he wondered out loud, as he pondered the moment of his own father's return—one he himself had been too young to save to memory.
Ironic, one could say. A rhyme, indeed.
With a sigh that fell to the bottom of his soul and the soles of his paws, he lifted his muzzle and called for @Amalia and for someone to summon @Towhee—and prayed they could be as forgiving as the gods who had found reason to give him another chance.
RE: when there's nothing left to burn, - Towhee - July 26, 2025
She was dying. And it wasn’t a metaphor. Towhee woke this morning with the knowledge embedded in her old bones. And an ancient, primal instinct prompted her to rally her remaining strength and slink away somewhere quiet to do it. Sure, dying surrounded by family was a lovely thought, but as the actual end drew near, Towhee sought the peace of total isolation.
She knew exactly where she wanted to go to die. She made it to the foot of the caldera, pausing to catch her breath and gather her energy for this final trek. Her eyes slipped shut. Towhee didn’t let herself think about saying farewell to the land or any of its inhabitants. She shoved the thought aside and swayed forward before opening her eyes.
She walked straight into something solid but soft. And familiar. Towhee reeled backward in something like slow motion. Her orange eyes cut up and down as she beheld Killdeer. Her heart clenched as she realized she must be seeing things as the hour of her death drew close.
RE: when there's nothing left to burn, - Killdeer - July 26, 2025
Turned out, Towhee didn't need summoning after all. His heart raced as she ran right into him; he must not have been paying much attention, such was his trepidation at explaining his absence.
A volley of emotions hit him in quick succession—joy to see her, relief to see her alive, then a growing sense of concern at the look on her face.
Something was wrong, but at least she was here.
Gramma,Killdeer murmured, pulling her into a tight embrace. He would hold her for several long moments, eyes closed, breathing in the scent he'd known nearly as long as life itself.
RE: when there's nothing left to burn, - Towhee - July 27, 2025
Seeing things was one thing—part of her wondered if she had one paw through the veil and was actually bumping into Killdeer’s fresh specter on the other side—but it slowly dawned on Towhee that she could smell him. And feel him. He had felt quite solid, even more so when he threw his forelegs around her and held her tightly. She could feel his warmth pressed against her, his breath tickling her ears, his heartbeat fluttering against her own chest.
That single sensation gave her life—almost literally. As it became clearer and clearer that Killdeer was here, living and breathing, Towhee felt the shadows of death draw back. It was as though every beat of his heart against her own infused it with the essence of life. Not only did it stop the clock on her countdown, it effectively began to reverse it. Her heartbeats might still be numbered… but it wouldn’t stop today, nor tomorrow, not now that her grandson was back in her arms.
A shaking Towhee clung back to Killdeer, breathing in her wayward grandson and his life force like some sort of energy vampire. She didn’t think he’d mind saving her life, not that she planned on telling him how close she’d come to death’s door. No, she would be too busy reveling in his safe return, savoring every single moment given back to them, to bother with absurdities like death.