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Post by Fawn on Oct 9, 2016 19:15:16 GMT -5
24 Moons. RainClan. She-Cat. This war had cut her more deeply than she'd ever anticipated. Vultureback's death, Glowflower's murder, the attack on her brother, Gullswoop... It was a true challenge now, to rise out of her nest in the mornings and continue on with her day. Bitternwing's expression was hollow, and even through her plush fur, there was a sense of leanness to her that had everything to do with grief and loss of appetite.
Crowblaze, her brother from an older litter, did not talk to her much anymore. He seemed too angry to speak; Rushwhisker, though she valued his companionship so much, could not manage to lift the veil of misery draped over her like cobwebs.
It was no longer safe for her to fish by herself; she was as much a target as her father had been, if not more so. Not for the first time, Bitternwing was immensely grateful she did not have kits, not this season; not during a time where Clanmate was turning on Clanmate. Where the future was so... dark.
Afraid to stay in camp any longer (Gullswoop's injuries looked worse than they were, thank StarClan) with all the pitying looks and mews of concern she was getting, Bitternwing sought out a warrior to accompany her to the river for fishing. I can't ask Rushwhisker. Not now. Not when just by being caught in her presence could be enough motive for the Purists to attack him.
Desperate not to let the cat she loved be added to the list of fallen, Bitternwing nervously sought out someone else. Her pale gaze rested on Stormheart, and she felt a flood of relief at seeing him; he had attacked and successfully apprehended Leopardyowl. The gray warrior could hold his own, and, truth be told, Bitternwing wanted to be around a cat that was much older than she, if only for the slight hope that he could call upon past seasons of wisdom to reassure her that all is not lost.
"Stormheart?" Bitternwing mewed, shocked at how quiet her own voice was. The plush brown and cream tabby shook out her fur, trying again. "Stormheart? I would like to go fishing at the river... Could you accompany me? If you aren't busy." Bitternwing felt sorry to ask, as if she were an apprentice too frightened of going onto RainClan territory by herself--but she was HalfClan. That her parents had loved each other enough to give up so much was apparently a condemning factor; it was best that she did not go alone.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 9, 2016 19:50:18 GMT -5
STORMHEART A somber mood hung on camp the last few days, as cats took their time to mourn, but also cats jumped at shadows, terrified that they would be next. After burying Glowflower, it had become clear that the purists were becoming increasingly dangerous. Stormheart was waiting for the (he assumed) inevitable order for a patrol to go and confront Swanfeather and her gang.
While it had been uncomfortable for the clan to be apart, attacking loyalists was going too far, and it had to be stopped. But Stormheart would be patient, Bluewave was a capable tom and he and Ottersplash would confer for the best solution.
Meanwhile, cats were encouraged not to go out alone, particularly cats who could be likely targets. Stormheart took turns guarding Leopardyowl and going out to fish either alone or with other cats, usually close to camp.
Today he had just finished a stretch guarding camp, when Bitternwing approached him. He could tell she was struggling, he remembered how very hurt she had been by the deaths of the two victims other than Duckquack. They were after all cats who were fairly close to her. Anger again rose up in him as he contemplated Leopardyowl and his rage in killing those cats, how he had almost killed his apprentice, and now somehow it was still not over, because another killer was on the loose!
Her wavering voice quelled his anger slightly and he nodded graciously.
"Of course, no one should be alone these days, I will gladly offer what security I can." Although he did wonder why she did not turn to Rushwhisker, they had been spending an inordinate amount of time together. "Come we will fish on the opposite side of camp from the purists."
Taking the lead, Stormheart padded out of camp and slipped into the stream, swimming to the other side and the crossing up further into the territory, but not too far that they couldnt reach camp quickly.
Once he found a quiet spot he plopped down and patted the ground beide himself with his tail. "Come, over here is nice, maybe fishing will help calm you." I'm not standing still. I am lying in wait. |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 10, 2016 8:02:41 GMT -5
27 Moons. RainClan. She-Cat. Touched by his readiness to help, Bitternwing felt like an apprentice again, trailing after the huge gray tom who walked with such surety. Her mentor had been Whitewater, Rushwhisker's father--and a cat who had chosen to side with the Purists. It was a shame, she realized, that she had not been tutored by Stormheart instead; perhaps she would have turned out more certain of herself, too. And her place within RainClan.
Moving to sit beside him where the senior warrior had indicated, Bitternwing saw her own haunted reflection staring back at her when she looked to the waters below; Bitternwing winced, mumbling. "I didn't realize I looked so terrible." A few self-conscious paw-swipes around her whiskers and ears made her feel a little tidier, but it didn't actually improve things over all. Grief wasn't so easily washed away. "I don't think anyone's making any leafbare preparations," Bitternwing observed quietly, turning her pale yellow-green gaze to the senior warrior.
"All this fighting--" her voice caught "--it makes everyone forget what's really important." Thank StarClan there were no kits in the nursery. It wasn't that she anticipated them being neglected, it just frightened her that they could potentially be targets because their parents chose to be loyal instead of pure. More than that, the nursery wasn't very well insulted, not lately. Timberstar's illness and Bluewave's busy life as both deputy and leader in place left the camp tense and a bit unruly.
Was no one thinking of the future? Wasn't there anyone focusing on more than just this war? Bitternwing was sick of it. The name of Swanfeather, a medicine cat, made her stomach churn and grow sour. The she-cat's tail lashed, and she glanced up into the sky, checking its position and which way it made her shadow fall. She adjusted her stance accordingly, one paw raised, poised over the water as a silvery shape appeared near the bank.
Bitternwing could fish decently enough, she was good at it, even, but unrest in the heart and mind ruined her timing. A flash of disappointment in her eyes as she struck out at the fish, realizing she hadn't timed that very well at all. Embarrassed, she shook the water off of her paw, starting to lick away the moisture so her paw wouldn't get too cold while waiting for the next opportunity.
"I-I guess I'm a little stressed." Bitternwing muttered.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 14, 2016 9:46:47 GMT -5
STORMHEART Stormheart watched her shift to looking incredibly embarrassed before uttering about how she looked. He hadn't intended that at all, but he guessed he should probably not aggravate the issue by speaking further, allowing her time to recollect herself.
"Grief is a staple of the clan these days, I guarantee there are few that look better or even have time to care. And I doubt those important to you see it as the main concern right now." He mused.
Leafbare did indeed concern him, but he had spoken to Bluewave, once the mourning was over and the accused was sentenced, there were indeed plans to begin preparing the clan for leafbare... it was just uncomfortable to consider what actions needed to be taken. How to handle the Purists? Would confrontation be necessary? He stared at the water before him, only have intent on fishing.
"Bluewave will take precautions when the time comes, and meanwhile those of us who can should help the best we know. Im sure we can start reinforcing dens with warmer materials for example, something which can be done gradually by a few cats." he glanced at her again. "If you do sometimes feel overwhelmed and there is no one around whom you feel comfortable talking with, work numbs the pain, especially when you think about taking care of the other cats in the clan. Its something to focus on other than your grief."
She mentioned about how everyone seemed to be forgetting what was important, and he nodded, thinking back to all the times when Rainclan had been in conflict, how decency and the code had seemed to disappear in the midst of struggle and tribulation.
"Violence brings out the worst in cats, it is always so when war comes." Her quiet attempt to divert her feelings caught his attention. "Never be ashamed for grieving, but some day, remember that you must let go. Give yourself the time to work through it, and then let yourself heal. If not you will remain bitter and in pain for the rest of your life, just like Swanfeather." I'm not standing still. I am lying in wait. |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 15, 2016 8:49:42 GMT -5
27 Moons. RainClan. She-Cat. "Give yourself the time to work through it, and then let yourself heal. If not you will remain bitter and in pain for the rest of your life, just like Swanfeather."
Bitternwing shivered, the already weary looking cat seeming to shrink under the dense weight of so much hatred, as if mere mention of their medicine cat had conjured such an image. "I won't, I promise." Bitternwing whispered, less to Stormheart and more to herself. Work numbs the pain. Then I'll just have to work until my paws fall off. She trusted Bluewave to begin ordering moss and feather collection to start lining their nests — RainClan was the least sheltered, when it came to leafbare.
Wrapping her tail around her body in a gesture of comfort, the brown and cream she-cat raised her head, watching Stormheart with a stronger sense of... understanding, then before. "How long did it take you?" Bitternwing's ear flicked, uncertain if the older tom would be comfortable enough to answer her question.
Discussing grief and loss... it could be very private, to those who kept their feelings locked up tight, like her brother, until they leaked out in the form of anger and resentment. But Stormheart's words suggested to her that he had experienced the same thing before, and that he had found a way to overcome it. There was always Russethawk she could talk to, the senior warrior having lost his parents during a flood, but the strong, almost paternal comfort Stormheart's presence and wisdom provided wasn't something she could give up.
Not right now.
@dreamer Notes: Short post, sorry about that ^^; |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 16, 2016 17:35:29 GMT -5
STORMHEART It seemed Bitternwing was taking his words thoughtfully, which was better than not at all. Stormheart turned his attention to the water briefly, before her question actually registered, and then his yellow eyes turned instantly to the sky.
“My brother was the first, and the hardest. I was still an apprentice then. Without the hard training, and the support of my parents I wouldn't have moved on. Even then it took me several moons, and for several seasons after his death I would occasionally feel pangs of pain. I suppressed them for awhile, until my mother died, and then my only choice was to fully grieve. When my father passed, and two others of my siblings, it was easier. In a way, time improves the pain. It never disappears, but eventually you learn to see the good memories with the pain, and it becomes bittersweet instead of just bitter.” His tone was still steady, still calm, but he had closed his eyes to remember, remember all of those who had gone on.
Then he turned to Bitternwing again, catching her gaze.
“But there must be a reason that we survived, some plan that Starclan has for us. Some deed for us to do still, and I'm willing to wait for it. What about you?"
He left her to chew on that, turning his attention to the water more firmly this time. There were things she would have to consider, maybe take some time to remember her lost loved ones, and he would give her the time to do that. Meanwhile now that there an interval of silence, Stormheart could focus on fishing, and after a while managed to scoop out a medium Chub, enough to feed a warrior. Once that was done he casually turned his attention to his surroundings, waiting for Bitternwing to finish her reflections.
I'm not standing still. I am lying in wait. |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 18, 2016 20:30:24 GMT -5
27 Moons. RainClan. She-Cat. A profound sadness filled Bitternwing's face, listening in silence as Stormheart described losing not just his brother, but both his parents, and two more siblings. Her heart threatened to crack all over again, but it was already in pieces. She felt only a surge of numbness, her head lowering. Why must we lose so much? And why, StarClan, must it hurt for so long? Stormheart had to be incredibly strong to move through so much grief.
To still stand tall and proud even when he had lost everything.
“But there must be a reason that we survived, some plan that Starclan has for us. Some deed for us to do still, and I'm willing to wait for it. What about you?"
Bitternwing glanced back up, pelt prickling at the honest conviction in Stormheart's eyes. There was a reason that they survived... Bitternwing was shocked to find that she felt she knew the reason. To prove that who you fall in love with does not make you a bad cat. To live for her parents' sakes. To honor their memories by being strong and a good Clanmate for RainClan, in horrible times -- and in joyous ones.
"Thank you, Stormheart." She mewed, feeling as if she had sat still for hours pondering every angle of his statement. "I really needed someone to say that to me." Bitternwing felt a little self-conscious over her honesty, but she wanted him to know she appreciated everything he had to share. "I'm going to do everything I can to... help RainClan move past this." Which should, StarClan willing, help me move on too.
With a soft purr that strained her throat a little, Bitternwing briefly pressed the top of her head to Stormheart's shoulder in gratitude, before moving down a little ways to try to fish for herself. Knowing that there was a reason, that her father's death and her mother's death moons before that were not just random acts of fate, was going to help her sleep at night. And they wouldn't be gone, not forever. She would see them again in StarClan, and with every moon she had left, she was going to spend it properly, by living her life so that when she joined her parents in Silverpelt, she'd have no regrets.
They didn't. It was only right that she follow in their footsteps.
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