LIFES ALRIGHT IN DEVIL TOWN [rainy]

I TOLD YOU ONCE, I CAN'T DO THIS AGAIN

She’d been up for hours, awoken by the sudden thudding of brisk rain. It had still been dark when the apprentice had been startled awake, but now the sky had turned from indigo to a milky blue, the rising sun still hidden somewhere in the earth. The rain had also shifted, falling into a light drizzle. Subconsciously, Roepaw hugged some of her still-tattered nest towards her, having been too tired to change it since the situation with Robinpaw and the other apprentices the other night.
She couldn’t bring herself to move, other than to nudge closer to the entrance. Her bones felt heavy, but not like she was having a bout of no-breath, today they just felt… fuller than usual, as if they were weighing her down. The thought crosses her mind to visit mama, to use her possible ailment as an excuse to see the molly, but she had been so busy lately… so lost in that complex mind of hers.
Instead, Roepaw’s eyes flicker to the sky. "Starclan has been grieving for hours…" she sighed to no-one in particular, the somber thought of Blinding Star being one of them flashing across her mind for a brief second, only to be inwardly shaken away. She didn’t want to think about that stubborn old man, but hopefully he was resting easy amongst his newfound starry companions.
The apprentice ponders getting up, even raising her head as she entertained the idea, only to realize all her energy had been sucked away from an unknown thief, and laying back down.
"speech."

 
Silent steps brought the phantom to Roepaw's side. Her tail attempted to wrap around Roepaw and pull her close. "Blinding Star and I never truly interacted." Besides his grumbling, accusations, and hostility. Which was understandable. He, like many others, was blind to the complexities surrounding her psyche. But, she couldn't expect that from others. Especially after she was shown how terribly alone she was after the Great Battle.

"But it makes sense why StarClan grieves. A fine warrior died before his time. Today they cry along with the living." A warrior who would still be alive if she hadn't been appointed medicine cat - if she hadn't tunnel-visioned on the cream point she scrapped with, the one who barred the path between herself and Ash. His injuries had been gruesome and severe but perhaps the loving touch of a fitting medicine cat could have helped heal his wounds. Could have kept him alive. Why, oh why, didn't she force the treatment onto Blinding Star? He would have squirmed, potentially making his injuries worse, but maybe then... No, she wasn't competent enough to fix such a large mess. Not as a normal cat and especially not as a medicine cat. "I truly hope he finds happiness and purpose up there."
 
"AND THOUGH THE EMBERS ARE NEW, WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T LET THE FIRE DIE"
"I knew him" Emberstar spoke the words softly, with a reverence uncharacteristic of her. She didn't know what compelled her to allow her paws to lead her over to the pair. All she knew was that to hear that neither of them had really known Blinding Star had sent of pang of despair through her heart, one she could not seem to dispel. It felt unfair, that he should been a stranger to those that grieved him. He deserved better than that.

She sat, her tail curling around herself. Her eyes were faraway. "A fine warrior is an understatement." Emberstar told Cinderfrost matter of factly. She was not insulted on his behalf, it was just something that had needed to be said. "I sparred with him once, before he was injured in the battle. That was one of the few fights I have ever lost. If the measure of a warrior is their combat skills then he was one of the best. Which is not to say that it is, or that all he was good at was fighting-" Her words tangled, and she lost them for a moment. Words were never her strong suit. What a crime, that she was the one that needed to speak for him.

Her ear flicked in frustration.

"I don't know why he followed me here." Emberstar stated, starting again. "What I do know, is that he was one of the bravest and strongest souls I have known, and I am honored that decided to call himself a Thunderclanner. I only wish he had more time to show that. It is only right Starclan should grieve this long."

If this rain was their grief, let it rain, she said. Let it rain for days on end, until the underbrush drowned and cats waded through mud to find their prey. Then, perhaps, it would be enough.