Black Tail took a deep breath as he padded slow and soft into the place simply called The Resting Stones. The vast semi sheltered space was quiet making even his paw steps echo softly among the carefully stacked and artfully carved stone that filled this place of remembrance. He did not stop walking with care but purpose towards the farthest back corner where the oldest stones he himself had placed here were what felt like forever ago. He stopped before a fairly plain and simple stack of five stones.
The bottom stone was pale gray with naturally rough edges. The only thing of note about it was a notch carved deliberately to allow a perfect fit for the reddish stone above to nestle into that perfectly. Atop the second stone’s flat top a set of three smaller naturally irregular but vaguely oval sat. The stack seemed precarious but a keen eye might pick up the deliberate and intentional care that was taken to keep them situated and sturdy.
Black Tail smiled sadly at the stones and placed a paw over his heart where his oldest stone lay against his chest.
–The First Oath-
Blacktail returned to the den carrying a bone in his mouth. It still held a little meat but it was mostly bare, picked over by whatever had killed it and the vultures he had scattered to claim the meager prize.
“Father! I have some food for you” He called awkwardly around the bone as he approached the dark gray lion that had the look about him that he wasn’t much better off than the bone that Blacktail dropped before him. His father did not move or even acknowledge his son or the words. Only the faintest of dust swirling at his nose and the rise and fall of the chest informed Blacktail that his father still lived. Though he knew that it would not be long now before the last member of his family wasted away as a broken shell of what he had once been.
“Please father, try to keep up your strength.” He nudged the meatiest part of the bone closer until it touched their nose. A soft snort and a very slow head raise had them looking at each other in the eyes.
“Son, there is no point.” He rasped dryly. “There is nothing left here.” He paused to hack before he lowered his head, curled towards his belly now away from the offering. “For both of us.” The final raspy words are so soft as to be barely audible.
Blacktail sat before his father with eyes filled with sadness. He had no more tears to shed not for his lost mother, brother and sisters nor for his father. The latter had long ago stopped living in spirit long ago.
He said nothing but took back his offering and made a sorry meal from the scraps and the marrow he could get to before giving his once proud and strong father one final look and walking away.
He paused and looked back. “I love you father.” The words were not loud but calm and clear. It would not be long now; it had been far too long since he had taken any food or water no matter what Blacktail had tried. He knew he would soon be alone to face the struggles of the world. There would no longer be anything but emptiness and memories.
He found himself wandering the area near the den in a sort of mindless patrol as contemplated the summation of his life that had led him to this. Feeling more like a shell than a lion. Almost wishing he had scars to prove the struggles or had something left within to be able to cry again.
He was still young and strong, if a bit underfed. But he felt much like his father now looked, but unlike his father Blacktail had never truly given up all hope that things could maybe be better someday. He wasn’t sure where it came from, probably his mother’s infectious positivity and good nature. Or his twin sister’s endless enthusiasm and excitement. Always talking about the future, mates, cubs, and strong families of their own. Though he was sure he shared the stubborn streak with his brother. Refusing to give up on protecting his sisters even after his violent death.
He chuckled, a sad longing hollow sound. “Lucky me.” He muttered and paused to stare up into the darkening sky. He wished it would hurt more, just to feel something. But it didn’t come and he sighed heavily. Turning back for the den he made to return to his father’s side.
Without a word he entered and settled himself in touching his skeletal father with his side. Careful not to lean into the old fool of a father and cause him any discomfort he offered his fading father that last and only thing he could. Whatever small comfort this gesture and touch could give him in his final hours.
And so they stayed there even after Blacktail had felt the breaths stop near dawn. He lay with the body that was once his great father. The noble lion that taught him how to fight while he picked up tips on how to hunt from his mother teaching his sisters. The lion that had shown him that actions mean more than words and how he had absorbed the idea like the ground after rain. He had watched his father weather great storms of life standing strong as the projector of their family. He had borne so much and Blacktail had taken over as his father took the loss of his mother to illness hard. Only to then lose his eldest son to hyenas that had attacked the foolhardy sister that challenged them for their kill. Then the twins left the nest to try and find those mates that they had always wanted. Only two get themselves in too deep. The news he got and passed back to his father all that time ago seemed to snap what little had been left of the fighting and hopeful spirit in him.
As he lay there lost in memories he could only feel vaguely sad and hollow over he managed a small smile. “At least the lives they lived were good lives. Some shorter, some sweeter, but even a flame that burns out quickly can burn bright enough to dazzle.” He said to no one.
He rose and pressed his forehead to his father’s one final time. “I will not forget who you were, what they were, nor what I am. I promise.” He swore softly. He then left the old familiar den behind to seek and hopefully find meaning in something else.
–The First Stone-
Blacktail traveled scavenging and hunting to care for himself but still felt hollow for many moons. One night he stopped by a river and found beautiful smooth riverstones. He wasn’t sure why they drew him in so much but he found himself inspecting the stones. Admiring their water worn smoothness and the wonderful uniqueness to be found in even the most common of rocks.
For the first time in a long time something kindled a long forgotten ember of joy. He spent days at this riverside playing with stones. They were satisfying to hold and even the more modest stones had decent weight to them.
He paused, staring down at a stone about half the size of his paw. It was a familiar grey with subtle white banding on one side and for some reason it reminded him of his father. Blacktail picked up the smooth stone and carried it back to his shady spot.
He took a deep breath and with deliberate strokes and focused gaze on his face he chipped a rough circle and a jagged crack across it almost like a bolt of lightning. He then carefully wove grasses to make a cord with which he could carry it about his neck.
Blacktail felt more right, more grounded as he slid his new adornment on. It was a representation of a memory, giving it a physical weight. He looked back to the river and the stones that he had been sorting through and admiring for the last few days. Surely if it felt so nice to just have one stone that meant something and helped him feel more real again, surely he could find more that would help him ground more of his cherished memories.
-back to the resting stones-
“Thank you my dear family. I am what I am thanks to what you showed me and how I was able to bear it.” He rose and gently touched the rocks with his nose. “Rest in peace knowing I am strong enough to bear my past and be the better for it.” He said softly. Before he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the light breeze whistling through the Resting stones totally at peace.
[WC: 1,487]
