A DIFFERENT KIND OF PAIN \ snowpaw

[BLAZESTAR]

As he'd told Orangeblossom, for Blazestar, most things go back to Morningpaw. Moons have passed since he'd lost his daughter. An entire season. Snow has melted, and the sun is warm, as is the breeze combing through his long pale fur as he steps from his den. Camp is quiet in the darkness, but for the cat who sits perpetual guard. Blazestar's restless, sleep elusive as a rabbit, and he finds his heart aching, body numb with nostalgia.

She would have liked newleaf. She would have liked to visit the Twoleg gardens where Dawnglare and her brother harvest herbs, he thinks. Morningpaw would have loved the flowers blooming across their territory, across her mother's territory. She would have enjoyed meeting the other Clans under the full moon. She would have--

Futile thoughts, ones that easily lead him to spiral. It's easy as stepping into dark, clear waters and feeling the bottom drop beneath his paws. He has to steady himself, has to close his eyes and focus his breathing. It's alright. It's alright.

His claws sink into the earth -- not out of passion or anger, but to anchor himself. When he opens his eyes again, he feels as though his insides have been scraped clean. Hollow.

Blazestar sees another cat, too-bright with fur the color of Silverpelt, and he blinks with surprise at seeing him out like this. As though StarClan is truly forcing him to face a phantom from the chamber of memories he's locked away with Morningpaw's spirit. Snowpaw had faced his own grief, and Blazestar had cut the white-splashed apprentice out of the picture entirely.

He takes a deep breath. Steady. Blazestar knows Snowpaw has suffered. Has carried the burden of all of their sorrow, as though his daughter's body weighs on his young shoulders still. When he looks at Snowpaw now, an entire season later, when the forest is redolent with rebirth, he feels nothing, and he finds that curious.

"Snowpaw," he calls softly, careful not to alert anyone else. Blazestar pads closer to the gray and white tom. "Would you like to..." He falters, but catches himself before he stops entirely: "Let's take a walk. It's a lovely night, and it looks like you're not tired, either."

// @Snowpaw​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Snowpath]

Snowpaw didn't disbelieve in StarClan, because if he did then he didn't know if he'd be able to accept a life where second chances didn't happen and cats simply disappeared. He didn't consider it a 'mother' or whatever other nonsense Dawnglare and his little apprentice accomplices spouted out, but he did accept it for what it was. A place cats went when they passed away, where they waited in peace and safety for the time the rest of the world joined them. It got him by, knowing one day he would get to apologize properly, that he had to keep going and living a life worth Morningpaw's death to ensure he had no regrets when he finally faced her again. Roepaw doesn't fit into that equation. She is everything against what became of it all. And he knows this, he has to.
But Snowpaw is too selfish to let go of the one cat who was at his side throughout-even if not physically there for most of it. Eventually he will have to face that but for no he just tries to find the comfort he can. The blue tabby can never sleep lately, head on his paws peering outside the den so when the restlessness becomes to much he wanders forward to see the sky proper. Look up and clear his head. Think about-
Snowpaw.
He hears his name and turns to stare. Snowpaw does not mean to look in Blazestar's direction with eyes wide as pools and expression one of silent horror, but he shakes it quickly before it can linger past its initial impulsive response, a slow blink and whip of his head before he lifts his chin back up enough to hear the quietly asked question that is not a question. It's not as though he expected to never speak to his own leader again in his life, its just that he wasn't ready, but then again did he know if he ever would be? That the ragdoll approached him first was not something so easily dismissed, he had seen the way the tom carefully glanced over him in the past, never looked at him with cruelty or rage but the silent grief on his face had been even more stinging than if he had screamed at him furiously.
"I...sure. Yeah." Snowpaw rises to stand, tries not to let his mind rush into every direction; shoulders tense but posture otherwise slack; he and Howlpaw were on decent terms again and what he wanted most in the world was not forgiveness but acceptance. She'd given that to him, he wondered if Blazestar would be similar or if this talk he knew was coming would break him down further. White paws moved him over to join the leader, pausing uncertainly because he had spent so much time away from the tom he had forgotten how big he was up close. It was just a little unnerving.
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[BLAZESTAR]

When Snowpaw turns to look at him, it's with golden eyes moon-wide. Blazestar is not surprised -- perhaps the young tom anticipates he will be punished, or that Blazestar will begin to place blame on his young shoulders. He agrees to accompany Blazestar, though, and the Ragdoll dips his head and begins to pad toward their camp exit.

Their territory is a patchwork of silver and black. Splashes of moonlight illuminate what space there is between the massive pines thrusting toward the sky. When Blazestar and Snowpaw walk through them, they'll be star-silvered. The night is quiet and almost ethereal with its warmth, with the coolness of the breeze stirring pine needles underpaw and spicing the air.

"It's been some time since we've talked. At all." Blazestar begins, positive Snowpaw will not speak until he's been given some signal that he has permission to. "It wasn't intentional, but I'm sorry for that. You must think I..."

He falters, letting his sentence trail off until there is silence between them again. What had Snowpaw thought? Blazestar looks to the younger tom beside him, the question in his blue eyes.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Snowpath]

Blazestar had been buried in his own grief, that he paid no mind to the apprentice who murdered his daughter wasn't surprising. If anything being ignored was a mercy compared to the other options. He should be grateful. He wasn't. Snowpaw frowned at the awkwardness of the talk, Blazestar was trying. He probably didn't know how to go about bringing it up. How do you casually slide into a discussion 'sorry I was overcome with sorrow when you accidentally killed my daughter and looking at you hurt me for so long' without just outright losing your cool?

"Hate me?" The blue apprentice finished quietly, not turning to look at the fiery leader opposite him as he spoke. "...it's crossed my mind." He wasn't going to lie and say that's not exactly what he believed because it was. Howlpaw had the decency to tell him to his face, at least, and Snowpaw was grateful they'd worked things out but he had been carefully stepping around Blazestar since then; the ice beneath him threatened to break at any moment at all times.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did..." It was strange feeling so calm, his heart was beating frantically but his words came out smooth, almost rehearsed despite this being a surprise to him still. Genuinely Snowpaw expected the leader to never speak to him again and he would've lived with it. This was something he wasn't sure how to navigate, did he even say anything else? Did he wait to be asked specific questions? He still felt guarded but he felt more adjusted to it now, if Blazestar had approached him several moons ago he might've bolted on the spot but time had done its job in giving him room to breath, to understand himself. He felt leagues older than he was, he'd be a warrior next moon yet he felt wizened already. Growing up hurt, he wished he could go back and redo it all but that kind of wishful thinking served no purpose other than to cause pain.
"....I'm sorry. I never wanted anyone to die..."
And it was true, despite his hotheaded tendencies he once had, he fought for the joy of fighting and defending his clan. He hadn't even intended to kill Lightpaw, only hurt him...
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[BLAZESTAR]

"Hate me?" The young gray tom finishes for Blazestar. He flinches, but he does not deny it. "It's crossed my mind." Blazestar does not meet his companion's golden eyes, not for several heartbeats. The truth is far more complicated than a simple yes or no, and he isn't sure he'll be able to put Snowpaw's fears to rest. "...I could have, at first. Not hate, perhaps, but... blame, yes. I blamed you." His voice is soft, his gaze trained away from the apprentice and into the shadows lurking in the pine forest.

Blazestar lets silence linger. He does not want to rush this conversation. "I had to blame someone. It was the only way I could accept she was gone, at first." He closes his eyes, a fresh and raw wave of grief sweeping through him. Even now, he can't help but remember how tiny she'd been at birth, little white body beside her twin's, nestled like splashes of milk against Little Wolf's flank. How her spots had come in, markings just slightly differentiating her from Moonpaw. The sweet lilt of her voice, meek but hopeful.

Her blood seeping into the snow.

He opens his eyes, and directs them to Snowpaw's amber gaze. "But I realized after she was gone that she would not have blamed you. And if she wouldn't have, how could I? I can't carry a grudge for her. Morningpaw wasn't like that." He blinks, and although his blue eyes are clouded with sorrow, he manages to smile. "I know that you never wanted to hurt anyone, Snowpaw. And I know that Morningpaw knows that, too."

No matter what, Blazestar believes this with all of his soul.

"I forgive you. And Morningpaw does, too."

// sorry this is so late!​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Snowpath]

Blazestar did not handle him delicately, he was honest even knowing his words might hurt but the apprentice admired him all the more for it. To face your daughter's killer with honesty and be so forthcoming must have been hard. He'd seen the way his clanmates sometimes judged the ragdoll for his softness, his refusal to fight if it was not needed-but for Snowpaw it was a true mark of one who had suffered and knew what suffering truly was; he wished he could be as noble. Ex-kittypet or not, Blazestar never once let his leadership go to his head and remained so grounded. To be blamed and forgiven was to grow, to let go was to move forward.

I forgive you. And Morningpaw does too.

Snowpaw said nothing, face tightening to resist the immediate impulse to cry that came from the flood of relief that rushed through him. He had not realized how much weight was there until it was finally lifted off of his back and he felt as though he'd float away if his claws were not gripping the ground.
Rather than speak and risk his voice breaking, he nods. His silence cries a thank you, acceptance and understanding. It almost felt like he could breath again.
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