private lose on losing dogs 𖥸 stormywing

[mottledpaw]

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ───────────── · ·

The whirl of colors and winds outside are a frigid comfort... they are dizzying in their dance. Meanwhile, the clan bustles about, relieved by the fact no one has yet starved. There is less reason to glower at the queens in the nursery so far... not until bellies truly start to grumble. With all of this time to laze around and think, it makes the dappled apprentice wonder if Flamestar will host a surprise meeting just to get Nightbird and her children out of that den faster- had she been crazy thinking she'd seen the lead warrior already out and about again? Moonwhisper never would've left them in there by themselves-

Her ears flatten, a lone eye sliding along the floor with a self-pitying sigh. At least she could be grateful for the safety of her sisters... No one else had said good-bye to her, no one that she held close at least. She can hear others groaning over their sore spots and their ailing wounds... she thinks to whine about it too, how much it aches, how confusing it all is. A orange-dusted paw lifts, moving closer and further as she tests the capabilities of her limited vision. The depth is much harder to make out... and with a lack of grace she softly taps her own nose thinking her paw had not been quite so close yet.

Frustration bubbles in her chest, humiliation toils in her belly. Suddenly this den feels suffocating... so she staggers to her feet, ignoring whatever protest might come from her healers to snap, "I just need some air." She wasn't completely helpless, right? Nothing like a mewling kit... not as small and helpless as Badgerstripe's litter. Pressing into the camp is jarring... and she practically plasters herself to the side of the medicine cat's den for some sort of solid support, creeping along its edge to find a spot near the camp walls to sit down.

A leaf flutters down and the apprentice realizes it is well on its way to being one of the last leaves left before leaf-bare begins in earnest. Her paw flashes out to try to grab at it... and comes up short- that leaf is not nearly so close as she perceived it. It elicits a sense of dread... how much she must relearn, knowing her warrior assessment to be maybe a few moons off. Would she even have time to adapt? Would she sit at that meeting hearing the chanting of peers' name but not her own? It's almost too much to bear, tears stinging at the corner of her eyes and barely drawn back by a sharp, shaken hiss. "Some luck..."

It might not have even been bad luck at all... maybe if she hadn't been so keen to undermine her mentor at every moment she might've learned more. If Beetlepaw were her friend instead of her enemy, could she have learned something from him too? "I'll have to learn how to hunt all over again..." And to be stripped of her one talent in an instant... It's a cruelty she's certain StarClan has cast upon her intentionally.

@STORMYWING​

 

[STORMYWING]

Stormywing had been circling the edges of camp, restless energy driving her paws. The battle had left her irritable, shameful, her thoughts swirling like the winds that heralded the coming leaf-bare. Her claws itch for something to do - anything to burn through the gnawing ache in her chest. She'd tried climbing earlier, but even the familiar solace of the branches had done little to soothe her.

It's the faint sound of Mottledpaw's voice that draws her back toward the present. She spots her apprentice pressed against the camp wall near the medicine den, her figure hunched as if the weight of the world has settled on her shoulders. The blue bicolor slows, her gaze softening as she watches the dappled she-cat lash at a leaf and then slump in frustration. She approaches carefully, her usual swagger subdued, and stops a tail-length away. Her words draw her brows up, and indignation flares in her chest. It pains her to see the she-cat so down about her fresh disability. "You know…Fallowbite's eye had been taken not long before her assessment," She offers hesitantly, her head tilting to try to catch her eye. "It was hard for it, but she made it. She passed, because she showed determination and resilience. It may take moons to get your full skills back, but I know you'll get there." Her eyes sharpen. "You will figure it out. You're not helpless, and you're not broken. You've got a good head on your shoulders - stubborn as a badger, sure, but I think that's gonna help you in the long run." She lets out a low chuckle, a flicker of warmth breaking through her usual bluntness.

She then quiets, wondering if Mottledpaw even really wants her here trying to offer comfort. They'd made up, but surely her apprentice has heard about what happened at Sunningrocks…surely she's heard her secret. She pulls back, giving the apprentice some space suddenly, but her gaze stays firm. She's got this. She's still Mottledpaw, even if things feel upside down right now. And if she ever needs someone to remind her of that, Stormywing will gladly take on the job.
​

 

[mottledpaw]

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ───────────── · ·

Her ears swivel at the sudden sound of a voice, already grown more embarrassed with the simply fact that Stormywing may very well have seen that pathetic display at what even a kit could better accomplish. They flatten, instinctively, turning to try and peer at her as the sunlit gaze of her mentor fixates on her like a warm ray of reassurance. A branch of empathy reaches out towards her, or maybe it's an attempt to promise that she's familiar with how to navigate this mess. How to train something freshly broken.

"Right... resilience." Her lips thin into a frown, certain that she could summon some up from the well of her own stubbornness. She'd be a warrior, just like she always wanted to... would bring glory to her bloodline as she'd dreamed as a child. Moons though.... the prospect is daunting... and she is getting too old to have to waste moons recovering her skills. Would she even graduate on time now? "It's not like I really have a choice," the tortoiseshell ventures, "Got no intention of letting Flamestar send me into an early retirement over something this stupid."

Not that she suspected Flamestar would... more than likely she'd be chased out for being dead weight. (Maybe that's the paranoid beast in her still, baying about how it is only a matter of time before someone chooses to enact delayed justice against her.)

The reassurance is almost awkward... almost. Unfortunately or fortunately a desperate tiny soul is grateful for it. One that misses the warm, milky scent of her mother's fur. Or the world-brightening smile of her father. Stormywing is decidedly not her parent but... for now, a patch over an old wound.

A parent. She was one though, wasn't she? And yet... isolated from them, with not a chance to truly experience it. Was this the closest she got? Trying to lift the spirits of an orphan? Mottledpaw's gaze narrows for a second, watching the nervous adjustment of her mentor's stance. "It's not really my business," her whiskers twitch, knowing there are few things she has the wisdom for to garner some sort of respect, "But... why'd you even stop her?" A leaflet of focus tries to catch her eye, "You shouldn't have..." You wouldn't be able to stop me. Her gaze hardens, a stony expression of the law and order, If it comes to it... I won't spare them for you.

"I gave up my eye.... what did you give up?"​

 

[STORMYWING]

Stormywing scoffs, a smirk tugging at her maw. There's that fire she knows is still within her sharp-tongued apprentice. But before she can answer, the next words tumble from Mottledpaw's mouth like painful jabs. Her tail lashes sharply, and for a long moment, she says nothing, her golden gaze fixed on a patch of snow-streaked earth. So she has heard. Finally, she exhales tensely.

"You don't know what you're asking, Mottledpaw," She mews lowly. Her claws dig into the earth beneath her, and she finally lifts her gaze to meet her apprentice's. There's no anger there, only a deep, weary sorrow. "She's my daughter. I know you've heard the rumors. RiverClanner or not…she's my kit. You can think what you will of me…call me soft, but in no world would she ever just be an enemy apprentice to me." And the reason she was even in that mess is because Stormywing wasn't strong enough to stay away from Iciclefang. From that bridge. Voice wavering, she continues, "I kept her and her brothers a secret to keep them safe, to give them the life they deserve. A life without whispers, without suspicion. A life where they'd never have to carry the weight of my choices. And now…now none of it even matters. Everyone knows." Her voice cracks as she shakes her head shamefully. "And all I can hope for is that my kits don't grow up thinking they're nothing but mistakes."

Her chest rises and falls heavily as she draws in a breath, steadying herself. She looks back at her apprentice with glistening eyes, tears refusing to fall. "What did I lose? I lost everything, Mottledpaw. My pride. My clan's trust in me. And long ago? I lost my sons and daughter, and the cat I loved." Her eyes bore into the young cat with an intensity that stems from heartbreak. Then she looks away again, her voice dropping into a crackling whisper. "But I'd do it all again if it meant keeping them alive." Stormywing lets the silence hang between them, her tail flicking behind her. Will her apprentice hate her for this? Judge her? If she think she's weak for it, fine. But if she's going to keep fighting for this clan, for the Warrior Code they all strive to follow, then she'd better understand what breaking that Code actually costs.
​