- Jun 27, 2023
- 56
- 6
- 8
She had to go back.
Those five words had been ringing in her head for the last few weeks. No, more than that. Since the hunger? Since the sickness? Wheatpaw supposed they had been there since she’d set foot on Shadowclan territory, steadily growing louder as days and moons passed so peacefully overhead. The Somali lookalike knew she’d been stalling, risking the way back to her family by staying rooted in place like this.
Shadowclan was a means to an end, nothing more. They were a rest-stop, soon to be forgotten as the moggy moved on to more important things. That’s what she kept repeating to herself as she prepared to sneak away, at least. Still, amber eyes couldn’t bring themselves to look at the sleeping forms of the other apprentices as she padded out of the den. Nor could the cat cast her gaze at the warriors’ nest, or the nursery. Wheatpaw felt that if she forced herself to look, she would go blind.
There was nothing left for her here. Another repeated phrase. Some absurd journey had taken those she cared about to the mountains, while sickness and empty stomachs would claim the rest in camp. How much longer could these cats delude themselves into thinking everyone was coming home? They would soon be no more than fading memories, she was sure. Autumn fur was forcing itself through a small hole in the camp’s wall when another thought struck her: was Wheatpaw so certain of the journey cats’ disappearance because of the way she left her own family?
A low growl sounded within her, silenced before anyone could hear. “All the more reason to go back and make amends.” The beauty breathed deep as she finally sprung free, trying to enjoy the openness of her surroundings but finding no luck in the endeavor. A small frown crossed autumn features as she searched for a reason. It must be the environment. The wanderer was never fond of these marshes, but as soon as she was back on the endless plains of her home, she would feel much better.
As Whatpaw began making her way away from camp, a sharp mind inevitably turned to the consequences of her actions. Would she be missed? Would search parties be assembled to look for the apprentice? An invisible brow furrowed at the thought. She hoped not. In the apprentice’s ideal world, everyone would accept her decision without disagreement, remembering her as a pleasant passerby instead of a traitor. Of course, it was unrealistic. There was a reason she was slinking out of camp in the middle of the night, after all.
Wheatpaw sighed, wondering which way her family felt when she left them. Did her siblings accept her desire to explore? Did her parents understand her hatred of that monotonous life? There was no way to be certain without going back, but like her desires with Shadowclan, she knew the outcome wouldn’t be good. Still, it was her responsibility. Family was her home, and her journey had to end at some point.
Still, as autumn features ambled towards the border, the beauty’s mind reflected on that journey. It was strange, knowing she’d now been alone longer than she’d been with her family. Four moons of her life had been spent with them, so even Shadowclan would soon eclipse her childhood. Was it wrong, letting those who were in her life for so little time exert so much influence over it?
The thought brought her back to reality as Wheatpaw realized she’d reached the border some time ago, and was now walking along it. A dry chuckle left her as she accepted that Chilledstar must have tamed her somewhat if she was subconsciously respecting the scent line. The wanderer took another breath, but feelings of freedom still evaded her. ”Maybe I need to go further…” an amber paw hovered beyond the border, but quickly yanked away. Why? Why was it so hard? Going home was her responsibility, she’d prepared for it, so why was it so hard to take this step?
Honeyjaw’s words echoed in her mind. “A bird could end up grounded, carrying a weight like that.” Was the guilt over leaving her family weighing her down? Farro, her own sister, had asked if she would ever return, and Wheat had been too weak to give an answer. She had to go back because of that, if nothing else.
Another attempt to step over the border met with more hesitation. She felt nauseous, uncomfortable. Surely the right answer couldn’t be to stay? To shirk her responsibilities and leave her family forever in doubt? But the idea of going back filled her with dread, like a prisoner being lead back to their cell. She loved her parents and all her siblings, but their way of life was too depressing to endure. The Somali lookalike had been selfish when she left them, looking for a life of adventure instead of subsistence. Was she being selfish again now, leaving Shadowclan without a trace in the midst of a crisis? What was the right answer?
Relief and despair warred within Wheatpaw as she finally realized that there was no right answer. Every choice, action or inaction, would hurt somebody. Her decisions had made it impossible to live with a fully clear conscience, any option would end with guilt gnawing at her. The Somali lookalike sat, long tail wrapping around her paws as cool wind buffeted the beauty’s fur. “Family helps family, no matter what.” Just breathing the words brought with it a wave of guilty nostalgia. The phrase her parents had drilled into all of them, the weight which filled Wheat with guilt, now took on a new meaning.
After so much time spent apart, and so much time spent with Shadowclan, maybe family meant something different now. Not just blood relatives. Needledrift and Ferndance, the first ones to find her, could they be called her sisters? Were the kits in the nursery her siblings? It was a pleasant thought, but doubt diminished it. Could she live up to her parents’ ideals with this new group of cats?
“I can try.”
A small smile formed on a usually neutral face as Wheatpaw finally turned away from the border and walked back to camp, relieved she was strong enough to answer. There would always be greif and guilt and doubt in her, but Wheatpaw was no longer weighed down.
The cats of Shadowclan were greeted with a strange sight that morning: Not an empty nest and a fading scent, but Wheatpaw up bright and early, enthusiastic and ready to help her family.
Last edited:
