[Fawn]

Russethawk
39 Moons || RainClan || Tom || Warrior

It had been a few days since he'd laid eyes on Timberstar. Normally, this would not worry him; the heat was getting intense, and cats with longer coats were seeking the shade more often. The river was cool, but not every cat in RainClan enjoyed going for a sim—and their territory wasn't as safe as it had been... Selecting a fish from the fresh kill pile, Russethawk made a beeline for their Clan leader's den, halted suddenly by the appearance of Bluewave exiting the overhanging of reeds and ferns. "Russethawk," he mewed in surprise. The tom sounded tired. Bluewave glanced to the fish and shook his head. "Give it to the elders or the queens." Russethawk, sensing something was... off, tried to glance around the big gray tom's shoulder, but Bluewave stood resolutely, the warning glance in the deputy's eyes telling him to stand down. Before he left, Russethawk caught a sour scent wafting out of Timberstar's den, one that had been poorly masked with lavender. It was a scent he remembered in leafbare. His pelt prickled with alarm, but he maintained his composure long enough to bring fresh kill to the elders. Timberstar was sick. He had never been an expert at hoarding information to himself; it was only a matter of time before the others caught on to Timberstar's illness. Feeling a welling of melancholy in his heart over Bravebird's absence—his best friend had remained loyal to his adoptive mother, Swanfeather, and was at the wooded cove as a result—he sought out counsel in his other Clanmates. Bottling up anxieties was never a good way to maintain one's composure; Russethawk was almost a senior warrior now. He felt morally obligated to be a good role model. He did not have Razorstar's iron-hard constitution and seemingly impervious emotional mask during troubling times. That was fine with him, Russethawk wasn't trying to follow in his mentor-and-brother's pawsteps; but he wasn't going to add to the confusion and the stress of the times. He found a pawful of Clanmates in the warriors den, and he greeted them with a smile that didn't fully meet his eyes. "I know it's hot out. Anyone feeling up for a fishing patrol? We'll stick to the shade." Bitternwing lifted her head from her paws, considering. The she-cat had an abundance of soft, downy fur, and like her brother Gullswoop, they both had to take things slowly in the heat. Russethawk wouldn't blame her if she refused. "Perhaps in another hour or two? Sorry Russethawk, I'll be no good to anyone otherwise." Russethawk nodded in understanding. "Don't worry about it, Bitternwing. I can wait." RainClan did not have a shortage of prey; unlike the other Clans that suffered heavily in droughts, RainClan's food source dwelt in water, and as long as the river had several tail lengths of water in it, they wouldn't go hungry. Keeping their camp cool, and making sure the camp stream didn't dry out were bigger challenges. But in terms of basic necessities, RainClan was fine. What a relief. Russethawk didn't want to think about dealing with a drought at the same time as their current internal problems.

Word Count: 528 Words
Tags: Hellion , Amber , @dreamer , @zen , @jabberwocky
Notes: Anyone can join in!

[Deleted]

Stormheart

The heat of the day bore down on Stormheart, like a weigh on his chest and over his back, prickling against his dark thick fur. It had started early in the morning, but thankfully Stormheart had still managed to contribute his share of work by providing the elders and queens with freshkill. It was odd sometimes, walking into the elders den. Unlike many warriors in the clan who saw such a huge divide between the elders and them, Stormheart had known many of them as warriors, and for many moons. And it was becoming an uncomfortable thought to consider that he only had a few full season changes before he too might join the elders. He shook his head at that, he would only join the elders when his paws would no longer carry him, or when his eyes would no longer see. And that was many many moons to come.

Once he had finished a quick round of camp, to ensure that all the apprentices weren't dallying when they should be training or hunting, the heat drove him inside the warriors den. After some time however, Stormheart could not help but fidget.Ever since the split in Rainclan, he had been antsy, unable to sit still knowing that his clan was sickening from the inside. And now to make matters worse, their new leader was sick... but the rest of the clan, or at least the majority could not know. Already the clan was on very low morale. As Stormheart tried to decide what he might be able to do to improve the situation, Russethawk padded into the warriors den, a casual step but a clearly uncertain smile. Stormheart, as a senior warrior, appreciated the younger tom's effort to encourage his clanmates. Seeing the opportunity, Stormheart heaved himself upright with a grumble.

"A dip in the river would be a relief today." The gray and white tom grumbled. "I'll come along Russethawk."

He waded his way through the many nests, noting that some looked rather dry and sad, might want to send an apprentice for fresh moss, and try and find some nice decorative shells. Several nests lay perpetually empty since Swanfeather's exodus, and many cats avoided them like a sickness. If only Swanfeather had been willing to discuss with Timberstar... ah well, not much could be done now. Stromheart twitched his whiskers, looking around the den.

"Anyone else fancy a cooling breeze by the river?"

[Deleted]

I remember the days, new beginnings on an open page...

---

Rushwhisker had been spending more time with his mother since the Clan split. Whitewater may not have spent much time with Eelpebble since her breakdown, but he had still brought her prey every day and at least checked in on her briefly, unable to leave her in his past completely no matter how much he seemed to want to. Now that Whitewater was gone with Swanfeather's camp, Eelpebble was distressed and confused that she no longer saw her mate every day. Some days she would start wailing for him and some cat would fetch Rushwhisker to see if he could calm her down before they went to Ottersplash to medicate her instead. Some days he was successful, other days he reluctantly allowed Ottersplash to slip her a few poppy seeds and some other herbs that were supposed to help calm her when his presence and soothing words and the calming rasp of his tongue over her fur was not enough.

She was fading.

Losing Whitewater from her life was too much for her, and yet he wasn't sure if taking her to Swanfeather's camp would make her better or not, if she would simply miss his presence instead, and worsen. He was also sure moving to new a place would only stress her out more, and possibly hasten whatever was happening to her. So he kept her in the proper RainClan camp, where she was home and things were at least some semblance of normal for her. He was certain his father would not spend anymore time with her there than he had here either, and she needed more attention now than ever.

It was heartbreaking to watch. Rushwhisker had thought she couldn't get any worse, but he had been wrong. He prayed to StarClan every night to bring peace to his mother's heart. Some days it seemed they listened, at least, and he visited her like normal, and no cat came to fetch him while he was out of camp because she was throwing another fit. Some days StarClan was deaf. It was wearing on him, always worrying about her, keeping an ear out for any cat coming to find him while he was out on patrol or just fishing for the Clan. It was distracting and exhausting. He was bringing back less prey than normal from each fishing trip and going out twice as much to try to make up for it. Each night he flopped down into his nest and barely finished his prayer for his mother before he fell asleep.

He had already been out fishing earlier in the day and was taking a few moments to rest and cool off in the warrior's den when Russethawk entered, asking if anyone cared to go fishing with him. He had gone out by himself earlier, but any activity was always more enjoyable with company. One of the older warriors offered to go, and turned to see if any other cat would join them. Both Russethawk and Stormheart had thicker, darker fur than he did and must be far more uncomfortable in this heat. Rushwhisker pushed to his paws, managing a slight smile, “I'll join you. I was about to go out shortly anyway, might as well go now and have some company.”

---

With something to prove and nothing to lose, not a soul to betray.

[Fawn]

And the world's gonna know your name,

Out of habit, Russethawk looked for his two best friends, Lilystream and Bravebird. Lilystream had gone out on patrol earlier, and Bravebird was... The ruddy tom suppressed a sorrowful noise in the back of his throat, missing the tom who had been like a brother to him, had been at his side when he'd lost his parents, and lost Razorstar... He was losing Lilystream too, but for different reasons. "I'll go," mewed Ashclaw, the dull-brown and gray warrior uncurling from his nest. His fur only looked long, but it was considerably less dense than Bitternwing's or Gullswoop's. Still, Russethawk found it hard to smile encouragingly, especially when Ashclaw was the reason why Lilystream did not look at him the same way. Something had happened between them; he didn't know when, he didn't know how, but it had. Lilystream was spending more and more time with Ashclaw, and she always looked so happy... He'd thought nothing of it at first, and then he'd thought a lot about it, feeling jealousy rise up for the first time. Resentment towards his Clanmates for nothing more than making his best friend happy was not what he needed right now. "Sure, let's go before it gets any hotter. Feel free to join us when you can, Bitternwing." With Stormheart, Rushwhisker and Ashclaw, they should bring back enough prey to fill a few bellies. They were going to have to work hard for those that couldn't stand the weather; Russethawk's mind had slipped from the task at hand, however, and he almost bumped distractedly into Rushwhisker. "Sorry." Normally sociable, the sickness he had smelled coming from Timberstar's den combined with Ashclaw's presence left the ruddy tom unexpectedly silent. He couldn't think of anything positive to say; as they left camp, Russethawk's heart leaped as the border patrol returned, and he smiled like a fool at his pretty calico friend, Lilystream beaming back. Ashclaw surged ahead of them, and Lilystream shyly nuzzled his cheek, a private word shared between them before the fishing group moved on. Russethawk felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach, and stared so hard ahead, his eyes were beginning to sting after going so long without blinking.

'Cause you burn with the brightest flame

Word Count: 375 Words Tags: @zen, @dreamer Notes:

[Deleted]

Stormheart

The heat was beginning to get to Stormheart so that he began to pant. Ugh, it was time to get gone.

"Okay now we have a patrol lets go," he grumbled as a few other cats volunteered. As the large tom stepped carefully around the nests in the warriors den he chuffed in amusement as Russethawk bumped into Rushwhisker. It almost seemed as if they were a bit tipsy. STormheart stepped up closer to the younger tom and smirked. "Was that the heat Russethawk, or have you spent too much time near a patch of catmint?"

As they were leaving camp though, Stormheart noted how Russethawk reacted to Lilystream and Ashclaw's relationship. Oh. This was awkward. Stormheart very pointedly looked away. Not his division. He had never been in love, nor did he really think he ever would. He kept his emotions too tamped down for any she-cat to get them out of him. Not even his siblings got much more than grudging practical affection in his protective care. Emotions made him uncomfortable, he would rather just be able to snark at everyone else's problems.

Ignoring the uncomfortable mood that had settled on the patrol, he took point and slipped into the water surrounding camp, the cool water finally offering some relief. With a long sigh he pushed forward through the water, his large bulk at first making it difficult until he started kicking and soon made it across the river to the north of camp. Once he was on the other side he clambered out, shaking slightly but allowing the water to stream from his pelt instead of licking the moisture from his pelt. He paused under the shade of a tree to wait for the rest of the patrol.



Fawn@zen