[Insidious]

R A Z O R S T A R

Never in a million moons did he think that his eyes would be searching out the form of, perhaps, his one true nemesis of the Clan. It was no secret that Violetclaw loathed him. She downright despised looking to him as her leader, unable to accept him in the role when she still believed that it rightfully belonged to Sandstar. He would never think to deny how fantastic the former leader had been at his job. Sandstar had taken care of each and every RainClan cat with calculated ease. He had worked with an efficiency that Razorstar, still new and learning, could not yet rival. Violetclaw had every right to her own opinions. Razorstar simply hoped that he’d be able to make her see the good he wanted to do for this Clan in the long run. Every action he took, and every breath he inhaled, was solely devoted to what he did for this Clan. There was no longer anything for her to be suspicious about, and he wouldn’t sit around any longer and let their unspoken feud get in his way.

“Violetclaw.” He poked his head into the warriors’ den, skimming the couple of faces that were present until his sights landed upon the she-cat in question. “Let’s go for a walk. It’s about time that we discuss a few things.” He didn’t wait around any longer to witness the she-cat’s retort, fully expectant that she would have one. He didn’t want to be on bad terms with any of the warriors in his Clan anymore. When he had been the deputy it was simple enough to disregard, but a lot of things were starting to change - and not just his title. He ultimately wanted everyone to put their faith and their trust in him. Most of the cats that he suspected to have a problem with him being in charge still begrudgingly accepted the fate that StarClan had bestowed upon them, but he knew that Violetclaw would take more convincing than that. He had no idea why the she-cat hated him so. He certainly hoped that it had to do with more than just his bloodline, because that was a piece of him that nobody would be able to change, and he was honestly getting sick and tired of having to defend himself from those that fixed their sickened eyes upon him because he wasn’t born in the same nursery.

There was more to a cat than their clan. Minkpaw had taught him as much when he received his nine lives. He had every intention of making the best out of his nine lives, and doing everything in his power to maintain RainClan’s strength. Nobody, not even as pesky a tormentor as Violetclaw, was going to stop him.

Fawn

[Fawn]

Violetclaw
44 Moons. RainClan. Warrior. She-Cat.

So this day had come at last. For one treacherous half-breath, Violetclaw wondered if this was Razorstar's way of separating her from the group; exile would be too messy, but killing her at the border and claiming it was NightClan's doing? Breathtakingly easy, given how much the Clan seemed to trust him; there were few left here by the river who could honestly say Razorstar, while deputy, had not served his Clan well.

As much as her suspicions threatened to overwhelm her, it was Sandstar's decision that was Razorstar's saving grace; he had chosen him for a reason, and as much as it burned her, as much as she yearned for the position of deputy so that she might usher in an era of prosperity for RainClan, that title still slipped through her claws like water. Without word, the soldier-like feline with her militaristic principles and almost workaholic dedication to her warrior duties rose and followed Razorstar out into the sunlight.

It was rare for them to be seen together unless sent on patrol, but she wasn't thinking about this. Her thoughts were still very much dominated by Sandstar's death; she chose to grieve through working hard, to ease the anguish by doing all she could to make sure the Clan was well-fed. There was no mistaking it, Violetclaw knew better than anyone else how difficult she could be to deal with sometimes, in terms of social situations; her friendliness had been long-dead well before Razorfang and deputy had ever belonged in the same sentence.

She did not have friends. She and her family were not close.

But she had something she cared about, and would die to protect. And that something, the guardianship of that something had been entrusted to a feline she could neither read nor ever see herself agreeing with; the silvery leopard of RainClan had never fallen for his mysterious, cold aura. She had never recognized his charm; either because she was so hell-bent upon focusing only on the well being of the Clan that she missed it, or she simply chose not to see it.

It was hard, though. It was hard to acknowledge someone as being better than her; she valued herself on her worthiness for the title of deputyship, if she did not have it, then she would be nothing more than 'average'.

Someone no-one would ever remember.

[Insidious]

R A Z O R S T A R

He strode a fair distance away from where it was that any listening ears could snoop. The last thing he needed was somebody trying to sneak around his senses and figure out what he had to say to Violetclaw. All he asked was for a little bit of privacy, and so far it seemed like it was going to be easier to obtain than he thought. Nobody has so much as batted an eye as the pair of unlikely company walked through the clearing together. Perhaps, everyone somehow knew that the leader was trying to make amends of an irreparable relationship? If not that, then they just thought better of throwing themselves into the middle of the crackling fire that was Razorstar and Violetclaw within a nearby proximity of one another.

The ginger faced tomcat rested his back against the side of a damp log, attempting to decipher the emotions behind Violetclaw’s unreadable expression. There was so much agony, so much seething rage, caged inside of her eyes - so much of it was directed at him, too. He wouldn’t doubt for even a second that her claws itched to tear into his face. If she could eliminate him from his rank as RainClan leader, and could do so unscathed and blame free, he didn’t second guess that she’d take advantage of such an opportunity. She had hated him when he was her deputy, and she respected him no more - perhaps less - now that he was her leader. It was about time that the two of them settled down so he could find out why.

“I’d like to think that you don’t truly believe that I allowed Sandstar to die without putting up so much as a fight in his defense, much like you stated the night of our vigil for his last journey to StarClan.” He recalled the recent events with complete clarity, able to see Violetclaw’s hurt and angry face in his head clear as day. “However, our relationship sadly does leave me under the impression that such are your thoughts on the situation.”

Razorstar couldn’t stand for anybody to believe, with their heart and their soul combined, that he thought so lowly of the leader that he served for many a moon. Sandstar had been more than his leader. He had been his friend. The two of them had bonded over their mutual wants for the betterment of RainClan, entrusting one another with their shared guardianship. There had been few occasions that Razorstar could recall himself having been reluctant to stand by any of Sandstar’s decisions. He trusted that the deceased tomcat always knew what he was doing. He trusted that, wherever it was that Sandstar led them, it was in the right direction.

“I’m willing to elaborate upon the brief description that I gave of the events that happened, should you desire to hear the full story.” Perhaps then she’d realize that his summarized speech had, in fact, not been crowfood.

Fawn

[Fawn]

Violetclaw
44 Moons. RainClan. Warrior. She-Cat.

If he had been nothing more than the Clan's deputy - a title she respected on the near equivalency of the leadership title - Violetclaw would not have felt the need to explain herself, she would have answered with some curt, enigmatic response to match the tom with the enigmatic expressions and cold grayish-green eyes. Even towards an individual she should have trusted and acknowledged as her superior, owing to the fact that it was this particular tom who addressed her, made Violetclaw want to go back on her own devoted pledge to unfailingly serve those that outranked her.

Razorstar. He was Razorstar now. And as sharp as that name was (sharp enough to leave a few wounds he couldn't possibly see) to her ears, it was the truth.

A silver ear flicked, and as much as she would have liked to sit and appear utterly calm and collected, Violetclaw chose to stand - and to pace if necessary. "And if I had come back with nary a scratch, carrying Roselight on my back and covered in blood, you'd suspect me of total innocence?" She was not necessarily trying to start a fight, simply aggressively get him to see things from her perspective; if she had come home with the dead body of a cat he cared about, would he not have done everything in his power to sink those pike-teeth into her scruff and shake her until she told him what happened?

It was only his rank and his unpredictability that saved him from getting the same treatment.

Why had Sandstar been the one to fall and not Razorstar? It was unlike her to wish the death of a Clanmate, Violetclaw had always considered herself above this pettiness - and that single treacherous thought had her eyes flicking away from Razorstar's, guilty and unwilling to say why. It was wrong to think such things, that she would have traded Razorstar's life for Sandstar's. Yet deep down...

Could she have gone through with such a thing? And would she have done it for selfish reasons, or for the sake of the Clan?

Violetclaw had no intention of dwelling on that matter any longer. It was clear that Razorstar was willing to shed some light on the admittedly dark circumstances of Sandstar's death; she was willing to listen.
"Tell me what happened."

[Insidious]

R A Z O R S T A R

To say that she had aimed low would be an understatement. In the blink of an eye he had managed to quench the fire that burned bright as the sun in his rageful glare, returning himself to his former state of complete and total composure - he had come here today with the intention of maintaining a calm conversation, and he sought to carry through with that wish no matter how difficult she tried to make it. It was unusual for her to relate Sandstar to that of his mate when the same reaction could have been stirred just as easily with the mention of Russethawk or Mallowleaf’s name, though dismissing any further suspicions from his mind, presuming coincidence at best, he let the thoughts drift away before they could even begin to spiral into something more. Pity he hadn’t followed through upon it, for there was something far more personal behind Violetclaw’s unhappiness that the Clan leader was unable to see.

“I wouldn’t suspect you of being guilty, if that’s what you’re getting at.” He nearly scoffed at the very picture she was trying to paint. He would undoubtedly be aggressive in his depression had Violetclaw’s scenario ceased to be what it was her mind could conjure up in response to him. He would demand answers, much like she had. He would be in disbelief and he’d be more than angry, much like she had been. But he would never, not even for a second, look to her with accusation written in his eyes. Perhaps there would have been a time when he would’ve sang to StarClan how he thought Violetclaw was a murderer had Roselight returned dead as a fish out of water on her back, but he had grown a lot since then. There wasn’t a single cat in RainClan, not even Violetclaw, that he would think hadn’t at least tried.

She was at least willing to let him explain further, this he was grateful for. Razorstar exhaled a deep sigh that he had been holding in, recalling his memories of the recent tragedy and deciding where to begin. “Sandstar, Mallowleaf, and I were patrolling the NightClan border, as you know. Nothing had been out of the ordinary until we heard the distinct smack of somebody’s head against a rock, or something of that nature, on our side of the border. It turns out that a NightClan apprentice had been oblivious enough to cross into RainClan territory and knock himself out.” He would’ve rolled his eyes into the back of his head at the memory if he could. It was bordering shameful that they had allowed such a cat to enter apprenticeship. He still didn’t understand how he could’ve missed what distinctly differed between NightClan territory and RainClan territory, though he supposed it was too late to go back and ask questions. “The three of us went to investigate around the same time that a few others from NightClan’s patrol did, too. The borders hadn’t been enough to stop Blackwolf and Halfmask from following their clumsy apprentice into our lands, and as soon as the two of them saw us three standing near their passed out apprentice, they assumed the worst and attacked.”

“I’ll have you know Sandstar’s last life could have been taken from him a whole lot sooner hadn’t I deflected Blackwolf’s first blows. If you don’t believe me, Mallowleaf witnessed the whole thing - I’m sure you could go track down Blackwolf, too, if you’re feeling particularly suspicious.” He couldn’t help but return some of Violetclaw’s earlier attitude. It was hard enough as it was for him to be playing so nice. “I didn’t realize that Halfmask had been sneaking up on me from behind since I was caught up tag-teaming Blackwolf with Sandstar. Thankfully, Mallowleaf had been there to stop the she-cat in her tracks before she could’ve got her claws into me. This is where things started going . . . downhill. Halfmask and Mallowleaf’s fight escalated a little too quickly, and Halfmask wound up dead in this midst of all of this chaos.” He knew that all he was doing was giving Violetclaw a reason to deflect her anger onto Mallowleaf instead. He certainly didn’t want to introduce his equally stubborn ally to Violetclaw, knowing that their personalities would clash in a heartbeat given the chance. But he has promised the grieving she-cat honesty, and he intended to follow through upon his word no matter the cost. “Sandstar and I were admittedly stunned. Neither of us had expected this skirmish to be taken so far, especially given its original lack of a purpose for even happening. While the two of us were distracted, Blackwolf lunged for Sandstar again, and by the time I could turn around to stop him it was already too late.”

Too late.

Even if Violetclaw hadn’t been doing a good job at making Razorstar feel responsible, he was pretty sure that he’d be placing that guilt upon his shoulders all on his own. He always reminded himself that he never intentionally allowed his leader to die, though. Had he been able to overcome his distraction over Halfmask’s death, he would have threw himself in between the two fighting warriors and cost him his life instead of Sandstar’s.

Violetclaw didn’t need to secretly wish that Razorstar and Sandstar could have switched places. He sometimes caught himself off guard by wishing the same thing. He would have happily taken Sandstar’s place on the ground if it meant the deceased leader could stand up again.

“And don’t think that I didn’t consider taking Blackwolf’s life right then and there for what he cost this Clan. If Ravenstar hadn’t shown up with a couple extra warriors on her side, I have no doubts that Mallowleaf and I would’ve taken him down.” Finished with the story, he made room for a long pause before continuing. “Every single day I wish that Blackwolf and I could meet again so that I can make him pay. So there you have it. Has enough been said to prove my innocence?”

Fawn

[Fawn]

Violetclaw
44 Moons. RainClan. Warrior. She-Cat.

Though she had her initial suspicions about him declaring his lackthereof in regards to her having clean paws, Violetclaw had resolved to listen, her silvery body lowering into a neat if not rigid sit, tail wrapped around her paws as though she was expecting someone to pour wax over her and make a mold. Statuesque. Her willingness to see reason had her listening to the entirety of Razorstar's tale, but the mention of the catalyst - an apprentice knocking himself unconscious - made her gap at him in open disbelief.

He must have been joking. Yet the both of them knew she was prone to clawing his ears if he would dare to joke about something so serious. That, and she strongly suspected Razorstar of possessing no sense of humor; "the NightClan apprentice knocked himself unconscious," Violetclaw mewed slowly, just to make sure she had not misheard him somehow. "And caused the deaths of two cats?"

What in the name of StarClan was that foxdung?

Deeply unsettled - if not a little outraged - over such an asinine reason for their leader's death. To have died over something so absurd...

It was a difficult piece of fish to swallow, that was for certain. Violetclaw stayed silent for a long moment, the quietness stretching into several minutes as she broke down his long-winded statement, searching for loopholes, searching for something that would invalidate his absurd story despite already knowing it to be true. What he spoke of and what she had witnessed on the day he'd borne Sandstar's body back to them adding up.

Violetclaw released a cold breath, finding it monstrously difficult to not let her insensibility take over and accuse him of being a blackhearted liar, but then she regained herself. In light of her grief, she still held tight to the analytical, the military part of her that was encouraging the she-cat to move past this. Not only for the sake of her tangled emotions but for the sake of her future; too much emotion was never a good thing, in her opinion.

Feelings tended to prove problematic, particularly in the situations like this.

"I am sorry," her tone was professional, but that didn't make it insincere "for unfairly judging you, and not only for Sandstar's death, but for things that were out of your control." It was clear she meant the circumstances of his birth and early days here in RainClan; old prejudices died hard, but for Violetclaw in particular, her own dislike of him stemmed not only from this but from the very day that Sandstar had elected him deputy, and she had been passed over.

It was unclear what possessed her to tell him this, but her thoughts had made a circuit back to that conversation, one warm afternoon, with her leader over why he had chosen Razorstar.

”Because I thought him better for the position than you."

Perhaps now, perhaps now she could understand just what Sandstar had meant by that. She was suffering from a sensation that was akin to having a raven sit on your chest and continuously peck at the place where your heart was supposed to be - an annoyance at first, but now the fur was being worried away, revealing the soft skin underneath. And the raven just kept pecking until she started to hurt.

"Some time ago, I asked Sandstar why he had picked you over me, and he said it was because you were unexpecting of the title. Because your ambitions weren't what made you get up every morning and be a warrior." These words tumbled out curtly, yellow eyes fixed upon greenish-gray, wanting to make sure he was listening. "Because he thought you would not be blinded by your emotions, like I have been." Even after all this time, she hadn't learned her lesson. She hadn't changed.

She couldn't change. Violetclaw did not have the gift of evolving, she could not become more than what she already was; her ambition had frightened away her ex-mate, and twice it had cost her the very position she had worked all her life for. But what could she do with such iron ambitions? Violetclaw, not for all the prey in the world could she give it away. She could not remove it from herself like a tick that had grown too large.

It was who she was, and so long as it made up the foundation of her being, Violetclaw was now certain she would never gain the title she coveted so deeply.

"I am... beginning to see now, why he thought you were the better choice."

[Insidious]

R A Z O R S T A R

The NightClan apprentice had in fact knocked himself unconscious, which had - he would reluctantly admit - resulted in two deaths that could have been easily avoided. It wasn’t the kind of story that spoke of honourable sacrifice, nor had it come back to RainClan triumphantly on his back, because on his back had returned the dead body of a leader that shouldn’t have died. Normally he would have been happy, even thrilled, to declare that a NightClan warrior had fallen for daring to stand against his own. But looking back on it now, it had been so unnecessary. Sandstar should have been here. He should have been here to take away all of the pain that had resulted from his death. He should have been here to look at Razorstar, Razorfang, and call him his deputy again.

But he was a leader now, which made the fact that Sandstar was no more all the more unforgettable. All the more permanent.

He had expected the silvery warrior to spout something she hoped he’d find offensive. He expected something, anything, that was harsh enough to be fitted to what he liked to call her heart of ice. An apology had certainly not made the list when he mulled over all of her possible responses, and such earned a shocked flick of his ears, mouth gaping open as though to request that she say it one more time. Here was the cat that had single-handedly despised his every word, and his every action, since the day he became deputy. The cat he sooner thought would get buried in the ground before she said anything even remotely decent to him. As she continued to speak, her words no more harsh than before, he felt his disbelief multiplying.

She had spoken with Sandstar about why he was chosen instead of her, and though he didn’t find this piece of information to be particularly surprising, it remained surprising nonetheless that she was bringing herself to talk to him about it. He couldn’t quite stop himself from sitting on the edge of his seat, drinking in her explanation for what it was - because what it was was the reason that Sandstar had chosen him, something that he had always been rather curious of himself, but had never bothered to ask. It was true that he had never been any more ambitious than the next cat. Certainly not more than Violetclaw. But was that really what had made Sandstar see worth in him?

Razorstar would have thought it to have something to do with how, despite his background and how it earned him a handful of distrustful glares, he had overcome every hateful situation in his life and shaped himself into something that RainClan could turn to in their time of need. Though he wouldn’t say that he wasn’t thankful that the real reason laid elsewhere. A brand new sense of appreciation, of admiration, flooded his chest in knowing that Sandstar had never looked to him as the outsider that had proved himself to everyone. He had looked to him as a warrior of RainClan.

A damned good one if he was remembering correctly.

And even with that prized insight into the mind of Violetclaw, and into the way that she felt about Sandstar, it still managed to float over his head undetected. He couldn’t yet look to her and see someone that felt emotion, nevermind someone that could be affected by it. Sandstar had been something more to her than a Clan leader. Perhaps he had warmed that heart of ice Razorstar suspected her to have in a way he’d never know possible. It could have all suddenly made sense why the first cat she threw into her example had been Roselight. It would have made sense. Sandstar had been to her what Roselight was to Razorstar. The only standing difference was that while he would get to return to his camp and see her smiling, pretty face, she would never get to see Sandstar again until she joined him in StarClan. The ginger faced tomcat would never know how badly she was hurting. All he saw was this new, crazy version of her that was apologizing. That was beginning to see, all on her own and without any outside influence, how he’d maybe, just maybe, be okay for RainClan after all.

“Just because I might have been a better choice doesn’t mean that you were ever a bad one.” Maybe it was obvious. Maybe she wouldn’t care to hear it. He just didn’t want her to feel envious of him anymore. She had things that he wanted, too. What he’d give to have her pure, RainClan blood running through his veins so that it wouldn’t be so difficult for others to see how good he was for the Clan.

“Thank you for apologizing,” he nearly choked on the words, “I know we’ve never quite seen eye-to-eye in the past, but I’d like to at least try to make an effort from this point on.” And he would sincerely try. She could pretend that this never happened. She could even go back to hating him for having what she always wanted for herself. But, as a Clan leader, he didn’t want to be the same warrior, even deputy, that could so easily bring himself to lash out at someone of his own Clan for the slightest mistake. Others would have to try and accept a half Clan cat as their new leader; he just hoped he could make it a little easier by showing that was he trying, too.

“You might think that you have to be a deputy to prove to yourself that you’re doing good in the name of RainClan…” He didn’t know where he was going, or even what he was really trying to tell her. It just felt important enough for him to say. “And maybe my opinion isn’t going to mean that much, but you’ve proved to everyone else - of this I am certain - that no title on its own will ever be deserving of the same kind of respect that you have earned by simply doing what you do best: and that is being a warrior that RainClan can be proud to have.” He had no idea where this was coming from. He had to knock down a few walls to get there, but perhaps a part of him had always admired her prowess as a warrior and how - despite how they had disagreed at every corner - she had been deserving of the title, in her own way, when it was his name that had been called.

“I just thought you should know that.”

Fawn

[Fawn]

Violetclaw
44 Moons. RainClan. Warrior. She-Cat.

Hearing Razorstar offer words of validation and setting a paw out on the limb of a branch resembling a compliment had the same effect on her as if he were a talking fish; the first sensation was bewilderment, him being the last cat in the valley she would have ever suspected of finding any worth in her. Like the storm after the calm, embarrassment set in upon the full realization of her words, and Violetclaw's skin felt hot and red under her striking silver and black pelt; "Thank you," came an awkward reply, as if she were waiting for him to take back those words and sneer at her for being fool enough to believe him.

Did she?

It was incredibly hard to say if his opinion held any merit to her; at first consideration, him as her leader meant that his word was law, that his compliments were sound, that his acknowledgement of others had the same weight as if StarClan themselves had all spoken up to tell her she had worth and was invaluable in and of herself. Yet the tom who had spoken these words was not Sandstar, and hearing them once from a tom she had come to feel a certain fondness for had been difficult enough to believe, so to hear them from a cat she once viewed as an enemy of all she stood for - it was downright impossible.

But he had said them, and that amounted for something, even if Violetclaw could never specify what.

A silence stretched between them that was both uncomfortable and foreign, in the wake of their spoken thoughts and feelings, the two faced one another not as bitter, hate-filled rivals but as something more akin to Clanmates than they ever could've possibly felt towards one another prior to this moment. Violetclaw, for all her difficulty in accepting him in this new role and swallowing the bitter, stinging herbs that was the knowledge she would likely not achieve the dream she yearned for, she would defend him even at the cost of her life. He was RainClan's leader, and her devotion to the Clan by default would encompass him as well, though she was driven more by duty than any feelings of kinship or comfort towards him.

Razorstar had given her something valuable, though. The notion that if and when they fought side by side in defense of their home and those they held close, he would have her back. For a she-cat who had been betrayed, who had stepped on others and their feelings to get to where she is, who had not given a bedraggled fishbone over whether or not she had friends, this was a peculiar, precious thing to have. Violetclaw could not have put it into words even if she tried, eloquence had never been a defining trait, but even if it was, too great a challenge would it be to express the importance of trust.

She appreciated that more than his declaration that she was deserving, (those words of his would in time, frighteningly enough, come to carry the weight of an ocean for her once the shock wore off and the respect was wholly manifested) and it showed in a brief, accepting glint in her violently yellow eyes.

Violetclaw stood, intending to go make use of herself through fishing or harassing the apprentices into proper, respectable warriors; awaiting his permission (a strange thing indeed, but necessary given his status) without bitterness, she chose her words carefully and spoke them with a serious but low volume.
"I hope you surpass them. The expectations the Clan has for you, and that Sandstar had for you. Good.... Good luck."

Not wishing to suffocate in the revelation that she actually wished him well, Violetclaw turned to disappear into the background with a flash of silver and a flick of a black-tipped tail, vanishing from this moment.

Vanishing, but not forgetting.