pafp HEAVY IS THE CROWN | a victory

[SILVERSMOKE]

There had never been any time for fun.

Even now, the word felt foreign on Silversmoke's tongue, something so awkward to insinuate that he preferred seeing recreational moments as a chance to benefit his skills in some way. For too long, it had worked, now? It scared him. Once, he had been millimeters away from death, even more recently, he may have spent the rest of his life as some Twoleg's morality project. He'd always thought he'd regret not being strong enough to win, but those moments of humanity had taught him he was even more terrified of leaving the world without ever having enjoyed it. The head buntings offered between himself and his mate, the smiles offered by those grateful that he had trained them; wouldn't these things matter more than anything as he took his last breath? Wouldn't he prefer to die fulfilled rather than clawing for something inevitably unsustainable?

Free time often hadn't been fun time in the past, not when confronted with such future-defining questions.

And yet, he would take that over never getting the chance to think at all, to fully commit to becoming the mindless shield of SkyClan he'd wanted to be for so many moons. He wanted to feel, to love and to hurt, to know that in the end, it mattered.

Approaching Budkit had been an impulsive decision, one he wasn't even sure if Butterflytuft would approve of. The tortoiseshell wasn't exactly fond of him, even now, he didn't think he was fond of her, but she was a clanmate and her duty was an important one - but there were some things she couldn't do alone either. A part of the Budkit's life was unfulfilled too, and Silversmoke wanted to help. He listened to her greeting with ears swiveled backward and a strained smile upon his maw. 'Having kits would ruin things... I think.' He thought of Johnnyflame, someone whose link between worlds the spotted tabby already treated like a precious petal that could wilt at any moment, and feared the joy of children would separate them as it had done Fig and Fanta. 'But... it would be nice one day... I think. Seeing them grow up... it looks nice.' "Hey... Buddy..." His tail lashed at his own awkwardness, but ever stubborn, he pressed on. "I think it's time you showed that tree who's boss, what do you say?"

That was how it started. Now, the pair stared down the sunning stump, memories of Budkit's first encounter with the log as fresh as spring grass. Instinct had drove him to help immediately, her fear just as terrifying for the tom as it was for the child. Now he realised he may have to hang back, let Budkit fight this battle herself and win it. But it didn't mean he couldn't try and support her, he hadn't brought her back to her biggest challenge yet just to watch her suffer. "Use your claws to hold onto the stump, then... use your back paws to push yourself up. Like this..." He leaped towards the stump, purposefully avoiding clearing it so he could show Budkit how he latched onto the bark and how he kicked at it with his hind legs until he could jump up further, reaching the top.

He turned around, facing Budkit, facing... the clan. The clan whom he'd carefully crafted his image in front of, whom he thought only needed to see a protector more than a friend, whom he couldn't form attachments with for fear they or he would die at any moment. The clan that he was certain would make fun of him for any ounce of vulnerability shown because it wasn't very warriorlike.

He saw SkyClan, his heart racing fast enough to make the inside of his ears pulse with it.

And he looked down towards Budkit, feeling as if a great weight had been shed from his shoulders. "Come on... you can do it!"

@budkit

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[budkit]

Oh how wonderful to have lived a life with no recollection of strife; oh how horrendous to have lived a life without strife as well. Budkit maintains her innocence and carefree nature. She is young and safe from the pressures of the world. The seal point does not worry about providing for her home or creating a stony image of herself to portray as truth. She simply is.

She has always been… Budkit.

Unafraid of what obstacles are placed before her, she greets Silversmoke with exuberance over his offer. Certainly moments of fear take residence in her chest - such is the nature of growing up; self preservation kicking in every now and then. The memory of her first time tackling the sunning stump is hazy. It is not fear misted. Instead she regards it as a challenge… a hurdle to overcome if she wants to be like her friends. “Otay!” Comes her reply in shining voice, gleaming with excitement and a thirst for redemption.

The sunning stump is a Goliath to her David. Even as the sands of time have raised her higher from the earth that once cradled her orphaned body, she still stands so much shorter than the behemoth. Vibrant blue eyes gaze up at the rough bark and the bright sky that eclipses the top. Her heart beats steadily in her chest. Silversmoke speaks and ebony ears catch his instruction with care. Her usually empty head is filled with the words, swirling and colliding with each other until caught up in webbed synapses. She had not understood climbing when Doeblaze introduced her to the concept. But now, older… wiser(?)… maybe Budkit understands.

No, she definitely understands.

With a twitch of her kinked tail and upturn of her mouth, she watches Silversmoke demonstrate just what she needs to do. Her claws poke from their sheaths and curl into the drying ground. Soon they will curl into the gnarled bark of the stump. Her muscles in her legs twitch in anticipation. Soon they will propel her up the height of the stump.

She will stand at the top just as proudly as Silversmoke does now.

The kitten does not hesitate when the former lead warrior encourages her to follow his lead. His mismatched eyes meet hers for a moment before drifting to the potential Skyclanners who have come to bear witness. Budkit does not spare a glance to those souls - not yet. She will gaze upon them from atop the stump. That is her goal; her victory set before her.

With a leap she leaves the ground and smacks into the bark of the stump. It is not graceful by any means. But claws catch the rough exterior and play toned muscles engage to keep her solidly attached. Budkit heaves an unsteady breath and carefully loosens her grip enough to allow for easy release the moment she pushes up with her back paws. A wiggle in preparation and then she copies what Silversmoke had done. Hind legs release pent up energy just as she releases her grip on the bark. Up she propels herself and … down she falls - only an inch or two until extended claws catch the bark once more.

The unrefined action is repeated as many times as it takes until she reaches the top. It’s like two steps forward and one step back; surely as painful a process to watch as it is to endure. But she crests the edge and heaves herself onto the flat top of the stump. A victor’s platform. Redemption fits firmly in her scuffed paws; happiness shines bright in her sapphire eyes. “Buh…” she pants, wobbling to stand beside Silversmoke, “Budkit did it!”

She looks to the rest of Skyclan. The kitten tries to seek those she thinks will be most proud: Butterflytuft, Dawnglare, Doeblaze, Ghostpaw, and Oleanderkit. “Budkit did it!”​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom felt eternal gratitude towards Silversmoke. The tomcat has been everything to the boy: an object of fear, a stern mentor, and now a dear friend. Amber eyes narrowed in self reflection, idly watching the experienced warrior take another cat under his wing while the coward thought. Did he love Silversmoke?

He supposed so, but not in the same way the other loved Johnnyflame. The Scottish Fold had no desire to share a nest, inevitably growing uncomfortable next to a great pile of grey fur. Perhaps Chickbloom loved him the way he loved his old housefolk? An inevitable bitterness came with the thought, like biting into a sandwich seasoned with too much pepper, but even casting that aside the comparison didn’t sit right. Silversmoke hadn’t raised him or played with him, only showing affection in his own Silversmokey way, so he wasn’t like a parent.

Chickbloom never had siblings, but the coward supposed the stern warrior would fit most snugly as an older brother. Teaching, chastising, sometimes arguing…yes, the doormat decided with a small nod, he loved Silvesmoke like a brother.

The buttery boy focused once again on the world around him, the scene unfolding at the end of his gaze the perfect argument for why the whelp had come to that conclusion. A broad smile crossed his features as Budkit stood atop her personal Everest, guided by the cat he respected the most. “G-Good job!” Chickbloom called, beating a buttery tail against the ground in applause. Skyclan could use some small victories right now.​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Figfeather has not dared to teach kit’s about the art of climbing since Coffeepaw and Sangriapaw had been kits. When she had tried, Figfeather had pushed them too far and the nursery- let alone the entire clan almost had her ears for it. She’s stuck to teaching age appropriate cats since.

She watched from the distance as Silversmoke encouraged Budkit a little ways up the trunk of the tree. Victorious, Budkit shrills. It was no branch up in the sky like she had instructed her own kits to reach… but that was likely for the best. Soon enough she’d be racing her fellow apprentices up the Tallpine, racing in an attempt to reach its peak.

If Budkit looks at her she smiles and mouths ’good job’. Butterflytuft will be proud.

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