private never knew daylight could be so violent [rumblerain]

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The time has come. Something tells her that this is it, the last battle for WindClan. Suntride and those who have rebelled with him have spent months living at the horseplace, but now they have Sootstar and her warriors backed into a corner. Something has to give, now. The scars across her shoulder twinge as she slinks through one of the tunnels; her position is one of the most silent, winding her way through shadowy passageways with careful pawsteps. She is at her best within these tunnels, and none of the mad queen's warriors will get past her if she can prevent it.

From somewhere up above, she hears the yowling call of Sunstride—the fight is on. Sootstar's voice echoes in her ears, calling for her loyalists to get to the tunnels, and to kill. Though Sootstar is not her leader, Scorchstreak will heed that order; she will cut down each and every cat who chose that blasphemous kit thief over Sunstride and the side of StarClan. Her claws unsheathe, sinking into packed-down soil. Elsewhere in the tunnels, her apprentice is out of sight but not out of mind. Pinkpaw would be safer at Scorchstreak’s side, but for the moment she simply has to trust that the little calico can take care of herself, that she’ll stick close to the other rebels.

A set of black and white paws pass by the view that she has out of the tunnel’s entrance, and the calico dashes from her hiding place with a hopeful expression on her face. Sure enough, golden eyes widen as her gaze falls upon sky-blue eyes, a face she's known since they were born. "Rumblepaw," she calls out, and can only hope that her kit will hear her. Rumblepaw, she calls them, because their name cannot be Rumblerain, not when Sootstar had been the one to bestow it upon them. Not when the tom who’d called them raindrop is out there somewhere, lost or dead, and they had all believed him a traitor to the clan. They had believed that he abandoned them.

Her claws ache. Her kit has chosen a side opposite to her—a betrayal. For a moment, she sees Dappledsun instead of Rumblepaw, and she has to squeeze her eyes shut to clear her vision. "You don't have to do this, just come with me. Join us—Sunstride won't care." If the amber tabby tom resents her forever for her mercy, then so be it. She won’t lose another kit to her own claws. She can’t. "We can be a family again, you and me and Scorchpaw and Luckypaw. We've missed you so much, this past month, you know?" Spilling her guts to her kit is one of the most strange experiences she's ever had. It feels wrong, to be practically begging for them to see reason, to see that they don't have to die for a queen who cares nothing for them. "She doesn't care whether you live or die. We do... I do." She takes a step forward, tail flickering behind her.

// @RUMBLERAIN​

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[RUMBLERAIN]

Black-and-white paws falter as a familiar voice calls a name that they haven't worn for nearly two moons, teeth flashing in the light and battle-breath punched out of them as Rumblerain comes muzzle to muzzle with their mother. They're taller than her now, moreso as she stands with her hind paws in the tunnel from which she's emerged from, but a single quiver runs through their entire length as they meet her stare.

As Scorchstreak's plea registers, her kit's ears pin back. Sunstride might not care, but would they be a family again? Rumblerain, and their mother's kin who had abandoned them? Their littermates, leaving them behind to save the Clans while WindClan was left at the mercy of rogues not even Sootstar could quell? Rumblerain's long tail flicks, and their claws press fine lines into the soil beneath them. They should just attack her now, snap teeth into the topmost white strands of fur at her throat, but they cannot bring themself to shove forward into the tortoiseshell traitor.

"Do you? Do you really?" They hiss, hurt flashing behind their eyes. Something akin to disgust follows suit, though it resolves quickly into a bared-teeth distress. They can feel their composure slipping, two moons' worth of full duties in a half-staffed Clan suddenly taking a visible toll on the young warrior. "You left me. You didn't come back- Redpaw came back, but you didn't. You won't even call me by my name. Why should I believe the rest of what you say when you won't even let me have that?"

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[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The displeased reaction from her kit is expected, but it stings all the same. When she looks into their eyes, she cannot read their face. Disgust, fear, uncertainty—what lies in that expression? When had such a gap opened up between them, wider than the gorge? Rumblerain hisses out a scathing accusation, and the calico considers stepping back, disappearing into the tunnels and forgetting about this entire endeavor. But what they’re saying isn’t true. She didn’t leave them—Scorchpaw and Luckypaw didn’t leave them, either—not for good. "I didn’t—we didn’t leave you. We had to save the clan, and we came back when we had done that." She says it as though it is fact, and not merely her side of an argument that she clearly doesn’t understand in full. She’d known she was too late returning when she’d been told that both Weaselclaw and Lambcurl had died.

"I didn’t… abandon you." Not like their father did. But she supposed the comparison is unfair, when in hindsight all of Sootstar’s explanations for Badgermoon and Curlewnose’s disappearances sound more and more false with each passing day. Sootstar is willing to steal kits; lying about her deputy to get him out of the way is one of the mildest things the smoky-furred queen has done recently. And their name… Scorchstreak will not use it, even as they leverage it against her. They were made a warrior too young, their name clearly a jab at their long-gone father, and in light of his and Curlewnose’s so-called betrayal, it feels more a curse than a blessing.

Perhaps Rumblerain doesn’t see this all in the same light that she does—but they have to see the truth. "Whatever Sootstar has told you, she’s lying. She’s the reason Badgermoon is gone. She did this to our family." It feels like she’s grasping at loose dirt, hoping to pull the earth itself closer to her. It feels futile, trying to change their mind while a battle rages around them. What else can she do, besides kill them? She cannot drag them kicking and screaming back to Sunstride’s WindClan—she cannot save them if they won’t save themself.​

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[RUMBLERAIN]

Rumblerain should have expected this; should have known that Scorchstreak would immediately get defensive about the journey she and their siblings had undertaken to save the Clans. She did nothing wrong, she was a saviour of WindClan, and Rumblerain had just been there. She doesn't understand. A familiar purr rings in Rumblerain's ears, velvet, and they cling to it.

"Don't- this isn't about him!" Rumblerain protests, their eyes stinging. The warrior before them blurs for a heartbeat, vision fading out and then back in all within a breath. How dare she bring Badgermoon into this? With any luck he was dead, StarClan rest his soul, and safe. Safe from WindClan, safe from Scorchstreak? Had she cared about him either? Or was he just a means to an end, to sire two perfect tortoiseshells?

"I ..." Rumblerain claws desperately for control of their thoughts, latching onto a faded memory turned bitter with the passing of seasons, and their eyes harden again. Their voice is thick when they speak. "I don't believe you. You turned your back on me the moment I was announced as a moor-runner. I'm not hare-brained, of course I noticed. Your kin didn't spare me a glance while you were off saving the Clan, either. Sootstar said she'd keep us safe when Badgermoon ran, that- that we'd be treated like any other WindClanner. She wasn't lying about that."

And now I'm a warrior, and you're a traitor.

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[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ Scorchstreak is aware that she’s said something wrong, somewhere in this conversation. Control is quickly slipping through her claws, and she cannot tell how to turn this back into her favor. Rumblepaw cannot be reasoned with that easily, it seems, and with every word they seem to be drifting further away from her. From the truth. But she can… she can fix this. She can convince them that they don’t have to follow Sootstar to their death—they don’t have to stay trapped beneath her iron paw. The calico’s ears sweep back against her head; they don’t believe her? Yet they believe that Sootstar will keep them safe. "She’s lying to you." She carefully avoids calling them by their name—any name—as her words cut off sharply.

She supposes that she cannot refute part of her kit’s claim; they had been named after her tunneling partner, and to find that they would not be joining her in the tunnels had disappointed her. But she hadn’t turned her back on them! She had more responsibilities, and if she wasn’t training Rumblepaw to be a tunneler, then her involvement wasn’t necessary. In the face of their outburst, Scorchstreak attempts to stand tall. "I’ve never turned my back on you. I care about you—you’re my kit, I love you. Sootstar doesn’t love you. You’re just something for her to use. She’ll drive you to your death." She doesn’t want to see another of her kits die, and especially not in the name of the wretched moor-queen. But she cannot save Rumblepaw if they won’t save themself, can she? The only thing that she can do is refuse to kill them here, like she had the last time one of her kits betrayed her, and hope that they come to their senses. "I won’t fight you. But you have to make the right choice."​

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