"The blackbirds are singing."

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

The grove of pines was silent that day.
The lone figure of a slim feline was padding softly through the trees, thin bodice slipping easily through tightly-wedged treetrunks. Her pale amber fur was dim in the lack of light, shadowed by the branches high above the she-cat's head. The female's blank features was orientated towards the sun-streaked heavens, small nose pointing upwards like a tiny pink banner, tawny eyes unblinking as she continued to stare on, careful steps never stepping on a protruding root or stopping her slow, deliberate pace. It was as if she was searching for something up there, in the spindly limbs of dark brown bodies, tufted ears flicking to and fro from the side to the front, whiskers twitching faintly as she tasted the air, small maw opened to reveal gleaming teeth of perfect ivory beneath ebony lips, pink tongue sticking out from between both rows of sharp daggers to lick at the scent carried on the wind.
A fluttering of feathered wings. Small figures of deep ebonite flitting back and forth across the underside of the forest's canopy, vanishing into the foliage only to reappear later on, a short distance away from the first area, graceful wings beating against the air to support hollow-boned bodies of pure raven hues. One avian creature swooped downwards, talons extended in front of its speeding form, to crash into the ground and then race back upwards to the comforting confines of the high-up leaves. A worm was held tightly in its claws, wriggling helplessly, waiting for its inevitable fate of landing inside the bird's belly. Then, silence descended upon the trees again, the branches above the stock-still feline not betraying their flying inhabitants by a single rustle or shake of its healthy green plumage. It was slightly oppressive, after that joyful sound of feathers streaking through the air, the breezes whistling a soft melody against their barbs of onyx tones.
Suddenly, as if the very soul of the forest had ordered them to do it, the small avians burst into song, the sweet chorus of scores of high-pitched trills sweeping through the trees like a carressing wind over a sun-burned prairie of yellowed grass, or the cool feeling of fresh river water upon your fur after a tiring day of hunting under the blistering orb of golden illumination hanging in the skies like a savage slave-driver with its cruel whip, or kind father looking over its kits. A smile of contentment spread upon the female's features as she watched and listened to the mesmerizing show of beauty, looking as if they were singing just for her, and no one else. Not the chattering squirrel climbing up the tree, the slight clicket-click of its claws grasping the rough bark under its feet adding to the ringing rythm of the psalm, not the woodpecker on the other side of the grove, its beak busily tapping against the burly earth-hued covering of the tree, not even the rabbit quietly hopping to and from the trees, its ears pricked in curiosity as it stared questioningly at the strange scene. A tawny feline, standing still as a statue, in front of a flock of avian animals singing their little hearts out.
The she-cat opened her maw again, which had closed as she looked on at the spectacle. A breath of a phrase, soon followed by another sentence in louder tones, escaped her throat, and she settled down upon the ground to wait for the birds to stop.
"The blackbirds are singing. Tawny is happy."

[Fernpaw]

Soft yellow eyes looked out from a solid body. Muscles rippled under a greenish-grey hued coat. Ears pricked, showing the fact that the tom was completely into the scene playing out in front of him. At Tawny's last words, Stoneshadow felt a cold lump in his heart. She didn't remember. She didn't remember anything. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked back to his life on earth with the kit. Playing together, him rushing into river and nearly drowning to save her, both suffering from the poison oak they had gotten on their trek back, Stoneshadow sticking out his neck for the kit to have the leader make her an apprentice. He remembered every detail of these moments vividly, but he could never share the warmth of these memories with Tawny. She had truly gone mad, like all the cats had said.

They had said it before, when she had turned inward, growing cold to the world around her. Stoneshadow hadn't believed it, and he had tried and failed many times to draw her out of her shell. When she turned rogue, his life had ended. A day after Tawny's departure from the Clan, Stoneshadow had gone out looking for her. His life had no flavor or shine now that his dearest friend had gone, both in mind and body. The Clan didn't see him for moons. Then a hunting patrol found his broken body at the bottom of a cliff. He was still breathing, and his eyes had took on a peaceful hue. He smiled faintly at the patrol, whispering, "I heard her. Tawny . . . she called me. She called . . . and I came. We . . . will be . . . together in Star . . . Clan." Within moments, Stoneshadow breathed his last. Remarkably, his passing happened moments after Tawny's death. The patrol had come to inform him they had found her body when they found him at the bottom of the cliff.

((Oooh! I've got an idea! Tawny won't remember Stoneh, but he rescues her from drowning or something, like when she was a kit, and then she maybe can go into a coma like Ziggu, and in that coma she relives memories with him. Their first meeting, playing, in the med. cats den, stuff like that. Then she'll wake up and remember him. What do you think?

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

((Hmm... or she could have quick snatches of memory, and remember his name and who he is, but not what he has to do with her. Still, we could make her get her full memory back with your little plot. However, there's something that may go wrong. Since the cats are already dead and can't die again, she wouldn't really be worried. Also, she is of RiverClan, and knows how to swim quite well.))

The rustle of thick paws moving through the undergrowth was the first detail that caught Tawny's attention. The blackbirds had already stopped their song, a tense silence settling inside the trees as the melody dwindled to nothingness in the shadowed confines of the deep grove of pines, oaks and maples. Pale amber ears pricked curiously, a wary rigidness spreading through her from forelimbs to back, the she-cat surveyed the surrounding woodlands, hazel oculars narrowed cautiously as they twitched this way and that in an attempt to locate the intruder, the feline who had created the noise. It was too loud for prey, that was for sure, and no other predator than cats - or predators not dangerous to cats - were ever present in the realms of StarClan.
Another sound caught her attention: the faint pitter-patter of water droplets falling upon soft, yielding loam, like tears on the dried leaves of past moons. Someone was crying out there, though no sobs broke through the silence, filled only by the soft, questioning trills of confused blackbirds and the light flapping of wings as one or two of the avian creatures moved from their spot to land closer or farther away to the feline who had first been there.
Her attention moving slowly away from the birds, she turned to stare at the immobile figure of another cat, though it was not a female such as her. By the scent, a tom had come to witness the strange and beautiful happening, where a cat, entranced by the simple song of a few blackbirds, had stood still as a stone to listen intently and imprint those melodies upon her troubled mind. Oculars narrowed into a thin line of barely visible copper hues, pupil reduced to a mere slit inside the cold depths of her orbs. She did not like intruders, especially when they made the song stop. Intruders were bad.
"The stone's shadow is as silent as the screaming wind," she whispered under her breath, flashes of color skimming through her mind. Stoneshadow. She did not know why she knew this male's name, nor what it had to do with her, but she knew that she did not want to have any cat involved with her existence. And so she took a slow, deliberate step backwards, wary eyes fixed upon the figure of the tom in front of her, those strange flashes like speeding lightning curving through her thoughts. The crashing roars of a river in anger. A brilliant flicker of pale blue sky. The boiling feeling of water closing in around her body. The feel of soaked fur clamped tightly inside her jaws.
Shaking her head heartily, she went on retreating, waiting for the tom to make a move.

[Fernpaw]

((Oops! *grins cheekily* I forgot about that. But, I kinda want it to be a near death experience so that the trauma shocks her into remembering. She's your cat, you can have her remember any way you like. But I would like her to remember sometime soon, though.))

Stoneshadow's heart felt like it had broken as he saw Tawny slowly back away. She had seen him, and she hated him. His heart ached for her, to be forgotten and disliked by a cat who he had known since their kithood was almost more than he could bear. Slowly, he stepped forward into the light, oculars sad. So sad that one almost expected rain to fall, the lands to flood, and general chaos and havoc to break loose.

A soft, deep and gentle voice loosed itself from the muscular male. "Tawny," Stoneshadow called softly. "It's me. Stoneshadow. Don't you remember me? Tawny, Tawny, Tawny . . ." he went on repeating her name, slowly, as if by speaking her name he could have her remember---remember everything---remember him.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

((Of course :3 Just at the sight of Stoneshadow, she began remembering her past life. A little push is all it takes for the rock to tumble when the wind is blowing the right way.))

"I don't remember any Stoneshadow," she rasped in answer, though doubt was shining dully through her denying words. A stubborn look had entered the auburn depths of twin oculars set into her sockets, resembling slightly the headstrong character of the tiny, innocent she-kit she had once been, and the undeterred determination she had felt when the day of her apprenticeship had finally come to her eager heart. But these feelings were not mixed with the flooding joy that swept her mind away every time a chance for play presented itself. No. All that was present in her twisted mind now was the raging confusion sweeping across her mental barriers, the indecision ravaging her carefully-built mounds of what she thought were facts, and this clearly showed her true state of mind. She was troubled, unsure of who she was now that these strange flashes had begun invading her thoughts, scared by the assurance this tom in front of her plainly revealed. Did he know her? Was he bluffing? Did he want something from her? Was she the one in the wrong? All of these questions screeched through the head like gigantic monsters of stench-filled shining rock jarred to a halt on the great Thunderpath. And even this simple comparison brought something new to her whirling mind.
Thumping pain pounding through her every vein. The sticky feeling of blood streaming from her side. A dark veil creeping over her vision blurred by tears of agony, pushing away all other feeling, numbing the screaming nerves in her every pore, strangely comforting in this evil world of suffering madness and insanity. Voices above her head. The glint of unsheathed claws streaking for the head of another feline. Her claws. And the absence of a sound she found so comforting in these troubled times...
Another hearty shake of her skull shoved the colors, the feelings and thoughts, straight out from her wandering mind. They would soon return, she knew, but she might as well speak while her head was cleared.
"And how do you know my name?"
Her tones were sharp and commanding, not at all like the cat she had once been living as. She was a cold creature, ready to kill for survival, and only faint tendrils of the animal that had been called Tawnykit, and then Tawnypaw, were able to find their way into her memories as quick flashes of light. The fear backed away as she regained control over her mental capacities for a while, meeting the stranger head-on, not retreating any more. She did not want to run away from the terror building up inside her heart, from the fury that threatened to rush out and crush whoever stood in her way. It was time for her to show who she really was. Who she had been for countless moons.
But not who she would be.

[Fernpaw]

Stoneshadow flinched, as though she had struck him. The simple words, "I don't remember any Stoneshadow," brought agonies of pain flooding through his heart. He looked closer, she looked sincere, but a slight shadow of doubt had crept into her eyes. The tom's eyes burned with renewed vigor, if he could somehow prompt her memories, maybe she would remember him.

He smiled slightly as he recalled that headstrong look. "You looked at me the exact way when you were a kit," he spoke softly, as if he expected her to bolt. His voice was soothing, and gentle. "I had refused to take you to the River. Do you remember the River? A river full of rushing, powerful water. Awe-inspiring. You looked at me the same way you're looking at me now."

Greyish-green pelt shifted. Another thought sparked the tom's mind. His pelt. He had been the oddity of the Clan, and Tawny (when she had been a kit) had loved the color. He spoke again, ignoring the sharp tones of the warrior who used to be his best friend, "Look at me, Tawny. What do you see? Think, I know you can remember. I know you can. Try, Tawny. Try for me. Remember . . . Look at me. Who am I?"

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

The tom began speaking again, and his words were still of a past long gone, events she was not able to recall even by delving the deepest she could into her darkened mind. The River... she knew what that was, at least. Something out on the territories of RiverClan, a rushing, tumbling current or deadly water that would pull you under quick as a wink. But there was something else in that name, a meaning she knew of, she could not remember, just like that tom standing in front of her, speaking softly as if to a little frightened kit. A frown crossed the auburn female's pale face, betraying her tension and the doubt now obviously swirling through her mind and soul. She couldn't tell any more what were the lies in her life, what had been the words that were not true, and what had been told from the heart. She did not trust this... Clan male in front of her, this tom who kept on speaking as if he thought she would recall him when she hardly knew who he was.
Except for his name. That name, strangely comforting to her, held memories that had been locked away for a very long time, far into her mind, even farther than she could reach. Maybe something else here, about the warrior standing there, would unlock the images hiding inside her head. Tawny gaze roved over the male's muscled form, taking all in though a fierce expression of stubbornness still stayed pasted upon her tight features. But the only thing that attracted her attention were the soft ripples on the male's greenish-gray coat, a mesmerizing color, soft, soothing, even. It was as if she knew this hue, this tone, a mixture of ash and moss that formed the strangest of colors. As if she could remember it from long ago, something dead and of the past, but still there, present inside her mind. Like the name.
Stoneshadow.
The tom began speaking again, on and on, soft and calmly. Questions, statements, more questions and more statements. Always the same thing. But, just as that color, and the name, that beautiful name, this voice droning on with a spark of hope hidden deep inside its tones made feelings of before rise up inside her, pushing against her jaws, as if they were desperately trying to make themselves known by opening her maw and pouring out with a flow of words. However, the female clamped her fangs closer together, mouth set into a grim line of determination.
But the words were working upon her mind. Something hidden far in the shadowed depths of her cerebrum began opening, and more images slipped out, similar to the last flashes, but prolongued and clearer.
The harsh stench of a plant mixture, sticky and wet, applied upon her fur. The terrible itch spreading along her back and sides, making her want to scratch madly at it, but her not being able to because someone had ordered her not to move. And she loved this someone. Loved him so much, at such a point that she would never disobey him. A flash of gray-green fur. Twin orbs of molten yellow looking warmly out from a friendly, familiar face, towards her. A laugh of joy, and the exhilaration of speed as she chased the tom around. And, finally, the last memory needed to make her jump out from the confines of her twisted thoughts, to righten her heart and soul.
Stoneshadow. His name is Stoneshadow. And I am his friend.
More images, faster and faster. Blood. Pain. A screeching roar again. Darkness, inviting and soft, but so different from the veil of unconsciousness she had felt earlier. A feeling of leaving the eart, soaring high, and finally landing with a soft, hard, thump. And the last to come, a scream through her head, pleading and desperate, calling for someone she had forgotten.
Help me! Please... please, help me... Stoneshadow...
A twitch of unease crossed the she-cat's face. Tears were threatening to cross the barrier between her eyes and the world, to spread upon her cheeks and drop on the needle-covered ground. She stared fiercely at the tom, but this time, it was more with an undeterred loyalty and new-found love than a harsh, lashing hate. His name was Stoneshadow. Hers was Tawny. It was no more simple than that.
Still, she hesitated to come to him. What if he only looked like her old mentor? What if he wasn't truly who she thought he was? Better to be careful, and stay away for now.

[Fernpaw]

The tom waited patiently as Tawny hesitated. He waited as she stiffened and grew quiet, a flood of memories overwhelming her. Stoneshadow took one step forward, calling softly with a deep longing imbedded in his voice, "Do you remember, Tawny? Do you remember me?" He stood there, yellow oculars desperately pleading with the determined feline in front of him. His voice was full of pain and agony as he whispered, "Please, Tawny. Please. I'm Stoneshadow. I've been your best friend since I met you as a kit. Do you remember?" Stoneshadow plunged on, though he knew that Tawny probably had no idea what he was talking about. Still, some desperate part of him had gripped onto that shred of hope in his heart with iron jaws and it was not letting go! The brute continued, "Do you remember the time when Mintsong and I took you and a couple of your friends to the River. Remember when Koykit chased a frog, but she mistimed her jump so that she landed in the River, and then you rushed in after her because you thought you could save her? You both were drowning, and I had to leap in and save you. And, on the journey back, how we got that poison oak all over us? We had to wait forever in the Medicine Cats Den before Goldenleaf could arrive and help us. Do you remember that?"

Stoneshadow's voice slowly died away, and with it, his last shred of hope. Tawny didn't remember. She never would remember. He should just leave before this caused himself more heartbreak. But he couldn't, or wouldn't, he didn't know which. He just didn't. Stoneshadow stayed. He had at least to try to watch over his best friend for a while before he left. He might as well.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

The younger female blinked twice, as if she was trying to clear her thoughts and concentrate on something new, and all hesitation and determination seemed to drip away from her tensed features. Auburn oculars opened wide in an expression that resembled a mixture of joy, surprise, and slight doubt. Maw dropped open in one sudden movement, the cartilage linking her jaws to the hard bone of her skull clicking uncomfortably at the impact, and this single detail intensified the strangely dumbfounded aspect pasted upon tawny features. It was as if she had just dived into a lake of freezing water, and the shock of the cold liquid creeping through her coat onto her skin had flung the disturbing ideas and thoughts straight away. She was speechless for a single fleeting moment, an oppressive silence settling between the hopeless glint in the older tom's intense yellow orbs and the startled contortion of the she-cat's visage. However, language soon found her tongue again, and maw closed shut sharply with a slightly metallic snap before opening again and letting words slip past the ivory defence of two rows of lethal fangs.
"I remember you, Stoneshadow. I remember."
On a sudden impulse, she raced towards him, sheathed paws hitting the ground in a spray of dark brown needles, tail rippling out behind her like an unfurled banner of shadowed tangerine, whiskers pushed against the sides of her face with the pure force of the wind she was creating in her speed. A happy grin was splitting her formerly grim and determined features in half, and now, she seemed to resemble that young kit from long ago, who had so excitedly taken up her role as apprentice and had sadly gone mad after an encounted with a monster gone wrong.
As her race came to reach the tom, she skidded to a halt, earth and needles flying high up into the air as she halted just in front of the male. The sparrows in the high above branches looked curiously down at the show, just as Tawny had once stared upwards with pure adoration in her eyes, the sound of the birds' singing soothing her heart like a balm upon a wound. The female pressed her muzzle into Stoneshadow's shoulder fur affectionately, tears now streaming down her thin face, a rough purr that she had not used for a long time now rumbling inside her throat. She remembered. She remembered.

[Fernpaw]

Stoneshadow watched the she-cat in front of him, hopeless. When she cried, "I do remember!" he hung back, he was afraid this was some sick trick that she was playing, trying to catch him off-guards. But as he watched, Tawny's hard features split into the grin that he knew and loved so well. She was racing towards him, she remembered.

The brute's eyes burned with a fire of ecstacy as he leaped toward her, calling, "Tawny! Oh, Tawny!" They met in the middle in a flurry of fur. As she pressed her muzzle into his shoulder, a warm glow started in his heart. His pink tongue rasped across her ear as a deep purr rumbled from somewhere deep within his throat. Sometime after, he broke away from her touch and looked deep into her eyes, his own oculars intense and questioning.

"What made you remember, Tawny?" he asked.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

Tawny purred more strongly as she felt the sticky warmth of the tom's tongue rasping over her ear, auburn gaze closed off from the outside world behind tightly-shut lids. The chorus of the two felines' throat sounds rose into the air like a comforting rumble deep inside your soul, making your heart rise with joy and your head feel so light you would think you were soaring high above just as the sparrows were now, wheeling through the air with acrobatic twists of their wings, showing off their aerial talents. They weren't scared by the two cats below them; Tawny had visited their group for many moons in StarClan, and had never attacked them, always settling into a relaxed position as if telling them she would never harm their poor little tailfeathers. So on they played above, singing once again, high-pitched voices trilling through the wind like miniature trumpets of happiness.
Thin face cocked to the side in a questioning manner as Stoneshadow pulled away, but the hazel female obediently let herself be separated from the soothing touch of the tom's coat upon her tear-streaked cheek. Copper oculars returned the intense stare offered by insistent golden orbs, a quiet,innocent smile situated upon the she-cat's pale features in place of the ecstatic grin of jubilation her mouth had held moments before. She looked so different from her old self, more fragile, but rougher, and yet so alike; that sweet grin splayed upon her maw, revealing the gleaming tips of ivory fangs that had once been only the studs of new teeth. Or that glint of stubborn joy shining inside the chestnut depths of mysterious eyes, holding so many secrets, but letting them go like a flock of doves into the heavens of her mind to roost outside from her thoughts, and lessen the weight upon her scrawny shoulders. And so she decided to let everything slip, to 'spill the sparrows', as Ziggu would have put it.
"You. You made me remember," she replied simply at first, but knowing this would probably not be a good enough answer for the tom she had known once long ago, she went on, speaking about the last few seconds of their latest meeting.
"Your name. Your name was the first thing. Stoneshadow. Though nothing else had yet come to my mind, that one single word had stuck like a limpet to the walls of my memories. And then..."
She hesitated, paused, wondering if he would think she was absolutely mad if she told him about the images, but soon decided that she had been mad anyway, and probably still was for being so uncautious.
"And then the visions. Pictures in my head. The River came first. Then that first time on the Thunderpath. I don't know what happened there... Just that it was painful. Very painful. And the sparrows had stopped singing."
At these last words, she stopped again, that strange absence of something finally dawning on her. The sparrows. Maybe that was why she loved their song so much.
"And came your coat. You know, that special color all to yourself. I loved it as a kit, I remember that. Thought it was original, and pretty," she finished, sticking her tongue out comically.
"And there was the time when we were in the Medicine Cat's den after I jumped in the River to save Koikit and you came after me. We got poison oak all over ourselves. Itched bad, it did," she mewed, a grimace spreading upon her features. "And then I died."
That was the end of it. Afterwards, she had hesitated, and then come running. Stoneshadow knew the rest. The female just hoped she hadn't said too much.

[Fernpaw]

The tom tilted his head, screwing up his face as he listened to the unveiling of the story. Part of his heart felt a touch of pride, he had made her remember! He had defied the wagging tongues of the leader and elders who had said Tawny would never be sane again. He had defied them, and he had won! Tawny was sane, she was herself again. And all because of him. The other side of his heart felt guilty. Stoneshadow whispered to the she-cat, "I'm so sorry, Tawny!" Guilt bubbled up inside of him, pouring out of his mouth. "If I had been watching you more carefully, it never would've happened. You would've been sane and . . . you wouldn't've . . . died." ((Sorry for that weird word. But it just kinda fit right there.)) The muscular brute pushed a massive shoulder against the smaller cat in front of him, "Please forgive me?" he murmured, golden oculars pleading with the femme.

Greyish-green pelt trembled slightly as finely chiseled head hung, neck bowed. Whiskers drooped, tail brushing the ground as it lay limp. Stoneshadow looked up, sadness welling in his eyes. "If I had been more careful, none of this would've happened. We still could've been down there"---by "down there" he meant on earth---"and we still had our whole life ahead of us. And because of me, you died and then . . . well, I died." He finished awkwardly, he didn't want Tawny to know how he had turned into a mindless maniac, constantly searching for her, before finally dying from a fall.

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

Hazel female's cranium tilted questiopningly to the side once more as the whispered words coming from the gray-green tom's mouth reached her ears, slightly confused by what the brute was telling her. Why was he sorry? He had done nothing wrong. But then his explanation came out with his guilt, flowing through his maw like a wave of syllables and consonents, the saddened, regretful (I think, neh?) expression glinting faintly inside lemon-hued oculars emphasizing the guilty, wavering tones to his voice, and Tawny listened carefully to each and every pronounciation. If he had watched her more, he could've stopped it all. If he had watched her more, she could have stayed sane. If he had watched her more, she would've been alive in the end instead of dieing as an insane feline. So that was the problem. No biggy.
She gave a slow shake of her head, spreading her smile upwards, sighing in mock exasperation as the male finally finished his story. She reached upwards, for he was quite a bit taller than she would ever be, and gave his ear a warm, rasping lick, trying to comfort him in these hard times. She had just changed back from a completely mad rogue half-way into her old self, a spunky little RiverClan cat. But she wasn't little anymore, one of the reasons why she was still so different. And she had learned many things out there in her life as an insane cat, one of them being how to care for kits. Yes, she had been a mother, though she hadn't always enjoyed it, and she knew who her descendants were. But that was for another time. At that moment, it was Stoneshadow who needed recomforting. He had already done plenty for her.
"Stoneshadow," she began, whispering the word softly on her breath, the sweet tones of her now adult voice wavering on the breezes that streamed through the forest. "Stoneshadow, Stoneshadow, Stoneshadow." The blackbirds had stopped their song again, and were looking down at the pair, small skulls cocked to the side as if they were listening and understanding the speech of the cats. One or two even turned to each other and let a tiny trill escape their beaks, making it look as if they were having a conversation, or that the ones who understood were explaining to the ones who didn't. Meanwhile, Tawny gave the tom's cheek a soft nudge, trying to soothe his heart. She didn't want him to be unhappy. He had every reason to be so many other feelings.
"Listen, Stoneshadow. It wasn't your fault. Not at all. If it hadn't been then, it would have been another time. StarClan would not have let that monster touch me if they had other plans for me. I was destined to turn like I did, and finish this way. So were you. Our futures are laid out in front of us like paths of leaf and dirt. All we have to do is take the first step onto them. The rest flows on. Even, if I thought about it deeply, I would say I'm happy that I turned mad. Experiencing things outside of the RiverClan territories and the safety of the camp made me see more, become stronger, and I now even have my own family. So you have nothing to worry yourself about. Neither of us do. What matters is that we're here, together. Do not excuse yourself when it is of no use to you. It is like trying to erase the past."
She gave him another smile, then settled her head on his shoulder, tawny eyes glancing over to the gathering of birds high above. With another sigh, this time of happiness, she began humming a tune. It was one she had learned long ago from the birds, who had taught it to her by singing it again and again, showing her how to do it. It had comforted her. Maybe it would comfort him.

[Fernpaw]

Stoneshadow looked back up at her, golden orbs regretful and sad. Filled with unknown things that Tawny could never hope to understand. He sighed as Tawny began to speak, letting her voice wash over him and soothe him. At the end of her small speech, he nuzzled her affectionately, "Thanks, Tawny," he mewed. "You always could cheer me up!" As Tawny began humming, he felt his muscles relax. His lids half-closed as he listened to the sweet melody that emenated (sp?) from her muzzle. Stoneshadow was sure he was about to doze off, and though that would've been nice, it would've have been very useful.

The muscular brute shook himself. Stoneshadow stretched, forelegs stretched out stiff and clawing at the earth. He rolled his head experimentally, listening to a few cracks as his joints loosened, and wiggled his tail to check for kinks. He looked back at Tawny, then at the birds, who continued to trill and chirp on their branches. Golden orbs turned once more to Tawny as he meowed softly, "They really helped you get through, didn't they?"

[Flintpelt [Spideh]]

((Thankee for shrinking yer siggeh :333
However, I see why ya wanted it big. If ya want, I could do one, but with eyes instead. Then the siggeh would be small enough, and you could still clearly see the writing.))

The auburn female's song gradually descended in intensity, finally dieing out on one last note that rang through the silenced air like a stricken gong, its mellow tones wavering against the quietness of the forest. As the last trace of melody finally disappeared into the unknown, the blackbirds began their chirping again, still in perfect harmony with each other, one trill leading on to the next like a daisy chain of delicately high-pitched vibrations. One of the fluttering little avians even leaped off of its branch to do a fancy loop in mid-air, the music whistling through its small beak twirling along with its movements, twisting and curving around its ebony frame like the ribbon of a transparent tune. Tawny smiled upwards at their tight little group of professional musicians, copper oculars half-closed in contentment, giving her a slightly sleepy look as she gazed on at the tiny creatures who had halted her just in front of insanity's doorway, who had saved her from the true darkness of a mad mind. She had known her answer to that question for so many moons, it had been imprinted upon her mind as if carved there by a knife, and maw now opened to release the words repeated endlessly in the endless confines of her once shadowed imagination.
"Yes. Yes, they did help me through it. But you helped me out," she added, switching her warm gaze from the now flittering bunch of feathered animals to the gray-green coat of the tom beside her, and then pressing her cheek against the male's shoulder, closing her eyes in joy. It was like a dream. Sitting here, at the side of the one who would probably have claimed her heart, had she stayed longer in the world of the living, with her friends flying above them as they sang with a will. Her thoughts drifted away on seas of foam-covered alabaster waves, mind cleared from the confining shadows that had once held a cruel grasp upon her every action. But the mist of madness had now vanished from sight, and she was back. Or, at the very least, half-way there.