This Simple Season is Ours

Blackweed felt it in her soul that this was the end. She had always known these kinds of things, ever since she was a young medicine cat. She always knew when an end was near. It was like a song on the wind, whispering goodbyes and pleasantries.
Blackweed crouched upon a rock overlooking the koi pond. Rain danced light across the surface of the water and lit the bamboo forest ablaze with soft noise. More noise than there had been in weeks, if not a month. Blackweed had come here every day to pray. She prayed that someone out there would hear her and break this chain of bad luck.

The Dynasty wasn't really the Dynasty any more. There were a collection of a few who were still around, like herself. As of late, loners had taken it upon themselves to walk though and announce that they owned the place. It was funny to Blackweed. A poorly timed bad joke type of funny that left a bad taste in her mouth. The Dynasty would always be her's, even if there was nothing left to be her's. She beat out everyone by seniority by a long shot. Not that she was vying for power, Blackweed was too old to play that game. All she wanted was for her family to be safe.
Every joiner that had ever walked into these lands, every child who was born here (no matter their paternal heritage), she loved them. Blackweed would always love them and remember that they had once shared something special with her, a love for the Dark Dynasty. She hunted for them, she fought for them, Blackweed had lived and breathed for the Dynastians with no expectation of a thank you. She didn't want that. Blackweed didn't want to be their hero or their grandmother. They could have all hated her and she would have loved them anyway.
There was a time when she wouldn't have been so nice. It was a time that Blackweed looked back on and grimaced at. When she would have killed a man with little or no reason at all. She had been that guy. She had been an Exile. But her heart always brought her back to the Dynasty.
"Bit drizzly to be sitting out here all on your own."
Lifting her eyes, Blackweed blinked as the rumbly voice revealed himself to be none other than Project K. Problematic, perhaps a bit too quick with his teeth, but still the father of her children at the end of the day. "I wouldn't say so. It's a nice change from a stuffy den." Blackweed murmured, righting herself into a sitting position.
She saw Project shrug as he sat down beside her. "Do you think... they'll come back?" The wolf asked hesitantly, orange eyes scanning the bamboo for movement that wouldn't be there.
"No. It's the end." Blackweed answered. She let a soft breath from her nose. Blackweed didn't want to believe it was true, but she had to. There was no dancing around the subject. This was the end. But it didn't have to be bitter.
"Perhaps we'll see them again sometime." Blackweed offered slowly. "Maybe in another life, we'll come across them all again. Maybe it'll be better."
"Or maybe it'll be just as bad." The wolf grunted, shifting in his seat. Blackweed's tail tip twitched against the rock surface. "Maybe, but we can only hope that it'll be better."
Silence lapsed between the pair as the sat, watching the rain spatter the pond. Blackweed didn't even notice it. The rain slid right through her form like a cloud. Her body felt lighter than it ever had. Turning her green eyes upwards to meet Project K's, Blackweed realized she could see through his dark fur. "It's time, isn't it?" She questioned. "It's over." Blackweed corrected herself. She wondered if it was possible to mourn one's own life. She wished it could have been longer...
"Let's go, Weedie. You've got two sets of little furballs who miss you dearly." Project mumbled. His nose pressed to Blackweed's forehead.
Blackweed wondered if she would be missed here. If anyone was left to remember her? That was her biggest fear, being forgotten.
"Lead the way. I missed them too."
Taking one last look at the Dark Dynasty's pond, Blackweed felt a mixture of grief and release. Gazing over her shoulder, Blackweed vowed to commit every stalk of bamboo to memory. If no one was around to remember the Dynasty, she would remember it for everyone. Forcing herself forward, the black cat followed Project K into the bushes one last time, fading from site and leaving behind only a drift of her scent on the breeze and a trail of wet pawprints on the rocks. Blackweed had finally gone home for the final time. If one was to listen close enough, they might even hear the joyous cries of her kittens as they frolicked around their parent's paws once more.