![Spotflare [in.]](/data/avatars/l/0/695.jpg?1665349871){kind=avatar}
- Oct 9, 2022
- 16
- 0
- 1
cherrypaw | patchpaw | spotflare
The wind whips over the tops of the trees, sending snow flaking down to the ground and falling in clumps. Patchpaw was thankful the snow wasn't too deep, but it still took quite some effort to push through it as she approached the flame-colored cat sitting upon a stone like a statue, waiting for her and her brother. It was Spotflare, his dark hazel eyes unreadable and specks of snow caught in his fur. Her eyes raised to the sky, where the tree canopy was so thick that it even hid them from the sky and the sun. A shiver ran down her spine, fur fluffed up against the cold. She couldn't tell, though, if the cold even bothered her dad at all. His eyebrows were furrowed in thought and his expression remained unchanged, the only hint of life being the slow rise and fall of his chest, the synchronized visible breaths escaping his red nose, and the shift of his head when his gaze flickered towards their movement. Cherrypaw was only pawsteps behind her, wide awake and alert as he looked around the small clearing before back towards their father.
They were both worried in their own ways. Patchpaw's expression was wrought with concern and worry, but Cherrypaw seemed to have an inkling to what this was about. She tilts her head, as if wondering something. He knows there's bags under his eyes and his bones jut more than usual, but he doesn't say a word about it.
"You wanted to talk to us, Dad?" She finally speaks up, voice edged with some worry and some confusion, with her breath coming out in exhaled wisps just like his.
Unbeknownst to her, Spotflare had been agonizing himself over this conversation much more than he'd ever admit to either of them. After the hunting patrol skirmish between SkyClan and ThunderClan leading to Morningpaw's death and so many other cats returning with too many injuries to count, leaf-bare brunting its full, agonizing starvation across four of the five clans, Howling Wind's near-fatal attack and Cicadastar's brutal verbal onslaught against the other clans with increasing tension... and look at her, shaking and fearful of the days to come without even knowing when her next meal will be.
This was not an easy conversation to make, even if he wanted it to be.
Spotflare hops down from the rock, light paws stepping into the snow, hardly making a sound except for the soft crunch of flattened snow.
"Yes, I wanted to talk to you two privately. How are you feeling, Patches? Is your wound any better?" When he raises a paw to peer at her face closer, though, Patchpaw flinches and takes a step back, her nervous gaze darting instinctively to his paw, and he recoils back, guilt swiftly forming like a lump in his gut.
She was only just a baby, and to bear such an ugly wound...
Patchpaw forces a small laugh out, though, and he returns his attention to her. "It's better. Loads better. Figured out I could shove some snow on it whenever it starts pinching me. I mean, it'll go away at some point, we just have to keep waiting, right?" After she acknowledges his first question, though, Patchpaw hesitates and she shyly draws her paw through the top of the snow to watch as it parts for her little toes. "Doing my best, I guess. I was actually going to ask Roepaw if she wanted to train with me when you told me you wanted to talk to me."
Then, she hesitates again, and looks back up at him. "We'll be alright, right?"
Spotflare was, for a moment, at a loss for words. He couldn't lie to them, not in such a dire situation as this, but telling her no wasn't any better, nor was it entirely the truth.
"Is this about Morningpaw?" When she nods, Spotflare gives a small, soft sigh, and reaches over to pull her close. "Things like that will happen. They're inevitable. Unfortunate, but inevitable. The difference is, whether or not you'll be ready when it may happen to you. But, I want to ask you something." And here was the question he dreaded the most, but he had to know. It wasn't up to him to make that choice unless he absolutely had to, and he knew what his answer would be--but he didn't know Patchpaw's, not yet at least.
"Do you want to stay in ThunderClan?"
In just seconds, both of their heads shot up in shock and surprise at his question, Patchpaw staring at him with horror and Cherrypaw in confusion.
"Are we leaving?" When Spotflare shakes his head, this only confuses Cherrypaw even further. "I don't understand. Why wouldn't we want to stay in ThunderClan?"
"We're not leaving, not unless either of you want to. It's dangerous out here, and I don't want either of you getting hurt again."
"Well, I don't want to leave," Cherrypaw states, sitting down and wrapping his tail neatly around his paws. Cherrypaw's made up his mind pretty fast, Spotflare notes quietly. He had also quickly noticed Cherrypaw was coughing more, using his paw to cover it up; I hope he's not getting sick.
But Patchpaw had not yet responded, turning to look back towards the camp not too far away, midst all of the shrubbery and thick undergrowth. Her tail gave a couple of quick flicks as she considered his words.
"I can't just leave them like this." She turns back to face him, a new glow in her eyes--a kind of determination that even took Spotflare by surprise. "I--I want to stay! I want to be there for everyone else! They need me!"
She's too naive, his mind echoes faintly. She's going to get herself killed--or worse. The claws across her face only further exemplified his point, but it seemed as though Patchpaw wasn't going down without a fight, and Spotflare sighs softly. "Are you both sure?" When they nod, Spotflare can't help the slight twinge of disappointment, as if a part of him was hoping they'd say yes, and at the same time, guilt. They would be safer in a barn, but she's right. It wouldn't be good to abandon ThunderClan now.
Patchpaw was first to leave, striding back home with her shoulders taut and her head held as high as she could hold it. Cherrypaw hesitated, one paw lifted up as he looked back at Spotflare with worry, before he follows after her footsteps, roughly coughing all the way back. Eventually, Spotflare was left standing alone in the clearing as snow begins to fall from the sky.
"Watch over them when I can't, and keep them safe for me when I'm not there," he murmurs quietly, raising his eyes to the skies. He wasn't sure if they were even listening, but he hoped their mother could hear him.
The wind whips over the tops of the trees, sending snow flaking down to the ground and falling in clumps. Patchpaw was thankful the snow wasn't too deep, but it still took quite some effort to push through it as she approached the flame-colored cat sitting upon a stone like a statue, waiting for her and her brother. It was Spotflare, his dark hazel eyes unreadable and specks of snow caught in his fur. Her eyes raised to the sky, where the tree canopy was so thick that it even hid them from the sky and the sun. A shiver ran down her spine, fur fluffed up against the cold. She couldn't tell, though, if the cold even bothered her dad at all. His eyebrows were furrowed in thought and his expression remained unchanged, the only hint of life being the slow rise and fall of his chest, the synchronized visible breaths escaping his red nose, and the shift of his head when his gaze flickered towards their movement. Cherrypaw was only pawsteps behind her, wide awake and alert as he looked around the small clearing before back towards their father.
They were both worried in their own ways. Patchpaw's expression was wrought with concern and worry, but Cherrypaw seemed to have an inkling to what this was about. She tilts her head, as if wondering something. He knows there's bags under his eyes and his bones jut more than usual, but he doesn't say a word about it.
"You wanted to talk to us, Dad?" She finally speaks up, voice edged with some worry and some confusion, with her breath coming out in exhaled wisps just like his.
Unbeknownst to her, Spotflare had been agonizing himself over this conversation much more than he'd ever admit to either of them. After the hunting patrol skirmish between SkyClan and ThunderClan leading to Morningpaw's death and so many other cats returning with too many injuries to count, leaf-bare brunting its full, agonizing starvation across four of the five clans, Howling Wind's near-fatal attack and Cicadastar's brutal verbal onslaught against the other clans with increasing tension... and look at her, shaking and fearful of the days to come without even knowing when her next meal will be.
This was not an easy conversation to make, even if he wanted it to be.
Spotflare hops down from the rock, light paws stepping into the snow, hardly making a sound except for the soft crunch of flattened snow.
"Yes, I wanted to talk to you two privately. How are you feeling, Patches? Is your wound any better?" When he raises a paw to peer at her face closer, though, Patchpaw flinches and takes a step back, her nervous gaze darting instinctively to his paw, and he recoils back, guilt swiftly forming like a lump in his gut.
She was only just a baby, and to bear such an ugly wound...
Patchpaw forces a small laugh out, though, and he returns his attention to her. "It's better. Loads better. Figured out I could shove some snow on it whenever it starts pinching me. I mean, it'll go away at some point, we just have to keep waiting, right?" After she acknowledges his first question, though, Patchpaw hesitates and she shyly draws her paw through the top of the snow to watch as it parts for her little toes. "Doing my best, I guess. I was actually going to ask Roepaw if she wanted to train with me when you told me you wanted to talk to me."
Then, she hesitates again, and looks back up at him. "We'll be alright, right?"
Spotflare was, for a moment, at a loss for words. He couldn't lie to them, not in such a dire situation as this, but telling her no wasn't any better, nor was it entirely the truth.
"Is this about Morningpaw?" When she nods, Spotflare gives a small, soft sigh, and reaches over to pull her close. "Things like that will happen. They're inevitable. Unfortunate, but inevitable. The difference is, whether or not you'll be ready when it may happen to you. But, I want to ask you something." And here was the question he dreaded the most, but he had to know. It wasn't up to him to make that choice unless he absolutely had to, and he knew what his answer would be--but he didn't know Patchpaw's, not yet at least.
"Do you want to stay in ThunderClan?"
In just seconds, both of their heads shot up in shock and surprise at his question, Patchpaw staring at him with horror and Cherrypaw in confusion.
"Are we leaving?" When Spotflare shakes his head, this only confuses Cherrypaw even further. "I don't understand. Why wouldn't we want to stay in ThunderClan?"
"We're not leaving, not unless either of you want to. It's dangerous out here, and I don't want either of you getting hurt again."
"Well, I don't want to leave," Cherrypaw states, sitting down and wrapping his tail neatly around his paws. Cherrypaw's made up his mind pretty fast, Spotflare notes quietly. He had also quickly noticed Cherrypaw was coughing more, using his paw to cover it up; I hope he's not getting sick.
But Patchpaw had not yet responded, turning to look back towards the camp not too far away, midst all of the shrubbery and thick undergrowth. Her tail gave a couple of quick flicks as she considered his words.
"I can't just leave them like this." She turns back to face him, a new glow in her eyes--a kind of determination that even took Spotflare by surprise. "I--I want to stay! I want to be there for everyone else! They need me!"
She's too naive, his mind echoes faintly. She's going to get herself killed--or worse. The claws across her face only further exemplified his point, but it seemed as though Patchpaw wasn't going down without a fight, and Spotflare sighs softly. "Are you both sure?" When they nod, Spotflare can't help the slight twinge of disappointment, as if a part of him was hoping they'd say yes, and at the same time, guilt. They would be safer in a barn, but she's right. It wouldn't be good to abandon ThunderClan now.
Patchpaw was first to leave, striding back home with her shoulders taut and her head held as high as she could hold it. Cherrypaw hesitated, one paw lifted up as he looked back at Spotflare with worry, before he follows after her footsteps, roughly coughing all the way back. Eventually, Spotflare was left standing alone in the clearing as snow begins to fall from the sky.
"Watch over them when I can't, and keep them safe for me when I'm not there," he murmurs quietly, raising his eyes to the skies. He wasn't sure if they were even listening, but he hoped their mother could hear him.
A CANDLE IN THE NIGHT IS MY ONLY WAY OUT
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