sensitive topics nothing ever changes — prompt [ pafp / camp ]

[DAWNSTORM]

die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

/ subtle mentions of mental abuse

It was only natural that his father lectured him for things he failed to do correctly, even more so now that they had been integrated into RiverClan. The bi-colored tom blinked, watching his father’s seething form in contemplation, brows wrinkled against scarred features. Did he do something wrong? Oh. Dawnstorm blinked, helm lowered with the slow fall of his tattered ears. What had he done? His frown deepened, willing his memories forward, but there had been multiple examples of his shortcomings. How was he supposed to pick? He remained confused—befuddled even at some of the clan’s traditions, and his skills as a hunter seemed to come up short.

His maw parted to inquire just what angered the bulky warrior when the other snarled, quiet against the low thrum of working cats. Insolent child. His father began. Dawnstorm blinked, unbothered. He had known this his entire life, even before he opened his eyes to be stared down at with disdain. He wasn’t like his family and he never will be. A mistake, for Dawnstorm, had been the sole reason his mother and siblings died. It mattered little because this was his father’s way of telling him to get better and the bi-colored male couldn’t ask for more than this, not when his father was doing it out of free will.

A lecture of his weaknesses, proclaiming that he was too soft—worthless even now when leafbare was upon them. How could he possibly hope to give back to those who had taken him in when he could barely fish? Dawnstorm frowned. Oh. It was always more, wasn’t it? No matter what he did, it seemed nothing would please the other, otherwise he’d perish. You bring nothing, but shame to this clan! His father sneered. If only your brother was alive. He had sighed in defeat, causing Dawnstorm to wince. “Sorry–” He began, interrupted by the other smacking the ground in unhinged fury. Do not apologize to me, boy! Did you not listen? Perhaps another lesson will do the trick.

The dual-hued male blinked, nodding subtly. “It won’t happen again.” If he couldn’t act on it, then there was no point in apologizing. His father had said that a while ago, something Dawnstorm forgot, but thankful for the bustle of camp to quell his father’s disappointment, otherwise the warrior would fall victim to another one of his father’s lessons.

Do not disappoint me. His father’s words echoed, watching the other walk away with a languid blink of mismatched hues. “I’ll try not to.” He muttered, sighing inwardly with a shake of his bi-colored fur. It seemed he’d have many sleepless nights ahead of him if he wanted to remain in his father’s good graces or else he’d face another one of his father’s well-informed lectures of his shortcomings.

Pivoting, Dawnstorm paused at the sight of another clanmate, helm titled in confusion. “Coyotecreek.” He inquired, unbothered if the other had overheard, merely embarrassed.

/ please wait for @coyotecreek ​

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thought speech​

 

[coyotecreek]

( ★ ) it has been a few moons since the members of the ripple colony intigrated into riverclan, and while there has been some upheaval in their society, the newcomers seem to have finally settled in. some have odd accents, and many of them have strange ways of life, but coyotecreek has never been one to judge. living on a farm for many moons had shown him more of his fair share of others' traditions and ways. so, the patched tom doesn't often think much of the former colony cats' odd behaviors.

there is one, he's decided, that is different. positioned beside the fresh kill pile, having just dropped his meager contribution, the tom watches a scene unfold. it's not one he likes to witness, and as things escalate in tone, as father steps towards son in a menacing manor, coyotecreek inches forward, hackles raised as he prepares to intervene in a fight. the words spewed are unkind, unfitting for any clanmate to say to another, let alone family.

you bring nothing but shame to this clan... do not disappoint me...

the sneering tone of the father echoes in coyotecreek's head as the altercation ends without physical violence. as dawnstorm turns away from the retreating back of his father, coyotecreek catches his eye, odd gaze meeting one so similar to his own. his clanmate looks embarassed and confused, and the ginger tom has to shake himself out of his anger before he replies. "does he do that often?" he questions, tipping his head as his brows furrow. he tries to imagine ever speaking that way to his own kits, and finds himself shuttering at the thought. "dawnstorm, you are not a disappointment. yer an asset to this clan. yer a good warrior!" his voice raises slightly and he lowers it with a wince. "yer dad ain't allowed to talk to ya that way. it ain't right." ​

 

[Redpath]

Redpath could not believe the things she overheard from Dawnstorm's father. It wasn't her business, but she was about to make it her business. She placed her catch in the pile and trotted over to Dawnstorm and Coyotecreek, ears flat as if the words spoken by the bulky warrior were spoken to her.

"Coyotecreek is right, you aren't a disappointment." She says.

Already she is plotting revenge. Yes, she knows exactly what to do. This problem calls for the alliance between her and her greatest nemesis...The crabs. Was it childish to put a crab in someone's nest? Yes. Did Redpath care? No. If she couldn't beat someone's ass, then she would just find another way to deal with them and the river always provides.

"You're a valuable member of this clan, and you are appreciated. Don't let him tell you anything else." She says confidently. Dawnstorm was a little odd, but he was just as good as everyone else and Redpath was here to help him understand this.

She cannot imagine what is wrong with that tom, to speak like that to his own child. She could never do such a thing, even to kits not her own. Parents that are cruel to their children frustrate her to no end....Which means she needs to find the biggest, angriest crab for Dawnstorm's father. She knows she'll regret this somehow and yet the desire for justice drives her forward and tells her its worth it.​

 

[DAWNSTORM]

die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Does this happen often? Coyotecreek inquired, causing his embarrassment to subside, replaced by pliable confusion, lowering eyebrows with a questioning tilt of his helm. What happens often? He wanted to ask but refrained with a harsh swallow, tasting bitterness. He had hoped no one had been present during his father’s timely lectures, made to improve, but still just as embarrassing when his weaknesses were so openly displayed for the rest of his clanmates to hear. To see just how shortcoming he was as one of RiverClan’s newest additions and still learning, but seeming to come up empty-pawed each time. Even his father noticed, catching Dawnstorm in a rare chance of weakness, to porcelain with such intensity, expected to join him on another solo hunt to determine his worth.

Blinking languidly, the bi-colored tom nearly balked at the strange words, glancing over his shoulder at his father’s retreating backside, long gone by now to do whatever it was his father did. A pink tongue peeked out to lick at dry lips, frowning. “He is my father.” He stressed, glancing at the two. “He has done no wrong.” Why couldn’t they see it? “Improving.” He further added, hoping that would explain, to vouch for his father’s behavior that was usually only directed at himself, and rightfully so. He dared not think of what would happen if he shifted views to another, having stopped many from going after his father with a low shake of his helm in a desperate act to shield them from something that made his frown deepen.

He had yet to make sense of it then, and it seemed he still couldn’t. His bi-colored hues shifted to meet that of Coyotecreek and Redpath’s. “I am still new.” He finally added, shaking his helm at their odd statements that made his pelt run hot. “Not good. Still learning.” He finished, confusion openly displayed across a scarred muzzle. His father was helping, in his odd way of showing affection, even if the other had repeatedly tossed him into danger without a second glance, it was still a chance to show that he improved, adapting to whatever his father tossed his way. He still had more to learn, to prove that he wasn’t something they would regret later on.

“I—” He paused, uncertain. “Thank you?” He said afterward, speaking of their bizarre words, trying to soothe something that wasn’t there. He was a disappointment and his father reminded him of it, no matter how much his gut churned with unknown emotion or how his chest sunk with each word that spewed from his father’s lips. “But I am fine.” He replied with faux confidence, still unsure, and back where he started, sorting through emotions one by one. ​

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thought speech​