SATURDAYS TAKE THE PAIN AWAY — crimsonbite

[SQUALLMIST]

Centipedepaw is gone. His first apprentice is dead.

Squallmist has failed him. Failed him like Rain, like Haze. How much more can he lose? How many more can the stars take away from him, can recruit into their ranks?

He paws at the bird before him, appetite diminished by grief. He'll eat later, he promises himself, silver paws pushing the prey back into its place in the kill pile.

Redstorm, Crimsonbite, they were truly the only family he had left, weren't they? Squirrelpaw too, now, he supposes - the kid now assigned to him. Poor thing, grief-destined just as he is, with Leopardcloud's death arriving all too quickly. How could he be expected to guide his new apprentice through this, when he was still grieving his last one?

He shakes his head. He'll have to. He'll just have to. He can't fail Squirrelpaw, can't fail Redstorm or Crimsonbite. Can't lose any of them.

His gaze strays away from the kill pile, spotting familiar ginger fur sitting not too far away. His uncle. How long had it been, since they'd spent more than a moment together? A flicker of embarrassment hits him as he realizes it's been far too long.

Squallmist pads over to Crimsonbite, and bows his head in greeting. "Uncle," he speaks, "Mind if I sit?"
​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"LIFE DOESN'T DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN THE SINNERS AND THE SAINTS"​

The ginger king lifts his head, whiskers twitching in curiosity, as the younger tom approaches. It had been... moons... since any of the boys had willingly spoken to him - though that had been more out of his own isolation that any fault of theirs. He moves his tail, an invitation, and he reaches out to lick down the fur on the available side of Squallmist's face. "You're a mess." He grumbles, though none of his typical bitterness darkened his tone. Instead he was... gentle. Concerned.

"You haven't eaten." He narrows his eyes, taking in the sullen tom before him. "You have another brat to teach, you have to keep your strength up, and that means you have to eat."​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[SQUALLMIST]

A mess, his uncle calls him as he smooths down silver fur along the side of Squallmist's face.

Maybe it's true. Maybe Squallmist is a mess. How long has it been, since he's properly taken care of himself in the wake of yet another loss? How long has it been, since he felt okay? Too long, probably.

The warrior settles beside his uncle, pale green eyes glancing back at the kill pile as Crimsonbite points out what he wasn't aware was obvious.

"I'll eat later," he half-heartedly promises the ginger-furred tom, "I'm just, not hungry right now." He isn't sure if he'll be hungry later, or if the sight of the kill pile will further remind him of the scene of Centipedepaw's death, but he promises anyway. His uncle continues to speak, reminds him that he's got another apprentice - brats, as Crimsonbite calls them.

Perhaps Centipedepaw was one, but he doesn't think Squirrelpaw will match his former apprentice's nature. Stars, help him if she does.

"Squirrelpaw's hardly a brat," Squallmist informs him, "She's not as much of a pawful as Centipedepaw was. Not yet, at least."

Keep your strength up, his uncle encourages him. He sighs.

"I fear no amount of strength will stop me from failing her," he admits after a moment's silence, gaze lowered to his paws. He's aware of the curse the stars have given him, is aware of the amount of loss he's dealt with. He just hopes the stars skip over this one, hopes that Squirrelpaw isn't fated with the same demise as Centipedepaw, as Haze and Rain.
​

 

[Lionsnarl]

"LIFE DOESN'T DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN THE SINNERS AND THE SAINTS"​

I fear no amount of strength will stop me from failing her. The ginger tom looks at his nephew curiously, trying to measure what he could possibly say to make that statement any less true to the younger tom. Trying to find the words to comfort when he had thought the very same about himself. Trying... and failing.

Instead, he sighs and looks at his paws. "I know the feeling. I failed your father. Your brother. Every cat we lost in that damn battle. I told your father I would protect them with my life and yet I'm here and they're not. It should've fallen instead of your dad, instead of your brother. You boys are my responsibility, my family." He swallows and lifts his head as if he'll find some sort of solace in the great expanse above, but the clouds move on, swiftly and silently, leaving no wisdom to glean from their wake.

"It doesn't get easier. Ever. You'll feel every loss like cold frost over your heart, freezing out everything else. You won't eat, you won't sleep, but you'll still dream - funny how that works. You'll go about your day and you smell sap, because of course you do, but it springs a trap in your head and suddenly you're there again, watching your friends die but you can only spare them a glance because someone has their jaws around your throat and in that moment, it's your life or theirs, and in the middle of blood and tears and salt, all you can smell is sap."

He bumps his head against his nephew's shoulder, half as a physical comfort and half to hide his face - he can feel his eyes prickling umcomfortably, unbidden tears springing forth. "But you continue living. Because there are other cats that need you. I will always need you. I love you and I can't lose you too."​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[SQUALLMIST]

His uncle brings up his father. Brings up Haze.

His insistence that he's at fault for their deaths confuses Squallmist.

Because, surely, it was Squallmist's fault?

Surely he was the one who didn't pay enough attention to the now-RiverClan leader's claws, where they intended to strike Redstorm, but struck his father instead. Surely it should have been Squallmist to stand in front of his brother in his father's place? Surely he should have urged Haze back home; should have struck Sootstar first? This was all his fault, not Tugger's.

He carried Haze with him in his name, after all. Certainly, it was Squallmist's fault his brother was gone. The silver tom shakes his head and looks over at his uncle.

"I should have been the one to stand in front of Redstorm. I was too busy protecting Haze, I should have... I should have been watching him too," he tells the ginger warrior, "And Haze, I... We should have never strayed that far. I... I should have dragged him back home." Squallmist hadn't wanted to go back home, back then, but, stars, if he could change what happened, he would.

"I'm supposed to be the responsible one. I'm supposed to watch over everyone. And yet --" he trails off, looks away. And yet, he's lost so much. And yet, Tugger has lost so much too. Had lost Squallmist's family just as much as he had, his own apprentice. He'd lost his mate, his kids. His uncle keeps going, so he must too. Tears prick his own eyes as he looks back at Tugger.

"I can't lose you either," he tells him earnestly, returning Tugger's gesture as he bumps his head against his uncle's shoulder, "I have to watch over you too, so don't do anything too stupid, okay?"
​