private A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FOOL \ mudpelt

[FERNGILL]

What had stayed with him the last few days was not only a wound to remember but an ever-present feeling of stupidity that Fernpaw had only really experienced once. His warrior assessment, of course, had been a show of complete embarrassment not only for himself but for his father, too. His mentor. He could hardly imagine how much Mudpelt was irritated with him for making him look like an awful mentor, when really he was one of the best mentors an apprentice could have. Kind, patient, skilled, experienced- and yet he was stuck with his dud of a son, undersized and excellent at only one thing. One thing every Riverclanner could do.

Sat with his good eye on the side of the entrance, Fernpaw instantly recognised his father's silhouette as it blocked the light for a moment, earthen figure looking right at him. "Hi," he said quietly, immediately looking away. He did not want to meet Mudpelt's gaze as he told him how disappointed he was, how he'd let himself down, how he'd let his father down.

\ @MUDPELT ​

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[MUDPELT]

Mudpelt hadn't been allowed in the medicine den for a bit. He'd been too panicked, too stressed, and it wasn't good for anyone inside the den. So he'd paced and paced, refused sleep and food, and kept pacing. When he's finally allowed in to see his son, he brings with him a fat fish that drapes heavily from his jaws. And when he finally steps inside, lays amber eyes upon his maimed son, he falters.

While the blood has been cleaned away from his face, his eye is covered with swaths of poultices and cobwebs. He swallows hard, stomach twisting in fear, before remembering he has to be the strong one here. He's the father here! So he forces his paws to go forward, guilt clawing at his stomach as he drops the fish at his paws and sits down beside the red-furred tom. "Do you have any idea what you put your mother and I through?" He finally cries out after a long moment of silence. Tears prick at his eyes as he stares down at Fernpaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from wobbling like a kit. Choking back a sob, the warrior wraps his foreleg around Fernpaw's shoulders gingerly and pulls him close, pressing his muzzle to the top of his head. "You mouse-brain.....don't ever do something like that again. Not even I would take on a fox by myself!"​

 

[FERNGILL]

Immediately, Fernpaw's verdant gaze flickered back to his father. He could not deny the need to look at him in that moment, the necessity to attempt to read his face. A strange expression occupied Mudpelt's features, one of... sorrow, reluctance. A silence stretched between them for a moment before at last Mudpelt spoke up, a scolding that was not nearly as angry-sounding or disappointment-twinged as Fernpaw had been expecting. He had expected Mudpelt to relent his training, to tell him how enraged he was, how disbelieving he was that after all this time Fernpaw still could not stand a chance. Figure out, verbalise, that he was a lost cause. It wasn't fair for his father to be burdened like this. But he did not say any such thing, pulling him into an embrace instead. A tear, falling before Fernpaw could force it back with a clenching jaw, fell from his healthy eye.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he murmured, voice razed by the threat of sobs, fraying and quivering. A childish term left his maw before he could stop it. "I'm really sorry. I- I didn't think- it'd end like this." He pressed his head into Mudpelt's chest, shoulders seizing in a silent sob. And it would end here, wouldn't it? If he was talentless before, he would be even worse yet. ​

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[MUDPELT]

Mudpelt squeezes him a little tighter, his cheek squishing now against Fernpaw's forehead. "It's not ending like this," He assures quickly, pulling away to stare at his son with intense amber eyes. Did Fernpaw really believe this was it? That he'd be discharged and sent straight to the elder's den? He ducks his head lower so that he's at eye-level with him, expression serious - perhaps more serious than he's ever looked. "Plenty of warriors have one eye. You'll be a warrior, my son. We'll just...we'll adapt." He has no idea how he will train him with this new obstacle, but they'll figure it out together. He places a large brown paw on the apprentice's own, eyes never leaving him. A casual shrug falls from his shoulders as a half-grin finally returns to his face. "We got this, you and I. We're a team, okay?"​

 

[FERNGILL]

An ugly sniff scraped through his nostrils, a noise wetted by crying. Maybe it was beyond pathetic to cry so quickly, but he'd never learned to bottle in his emotions. With no practice at withholding sadness, it fell from him now like clouds spewing a storm. It was difficult to believe his mentor's words, but he looked him in the eye all the same, good eye flickering about subtly as if searching for something hidden within Mudpelt's expression. He would just... have to attempt to live with this injury. Live alongside it. It was part of him, now.

We're a team. "Okay," he said- though his voice still trembled a little, burdened by the weight of his tears. "Okay." Repetition, assuring himself it was real. They would keep going, and... his father was not going to give up on him. Not yet, at least. "I really thought I'd ruined everything," he admitted, a sudden laugh pushing its way out of his chest in tandem with his words. It sounded idiotic, now, with the level of reassurance he'd just been given. "But- but if you think I can... then I'll keep going."​

✦ penned by pin ✦​