sensitive topics that old familiar tweet, tweet, tweet // the centipede

Patchpaw [in.]

Patchpaw [in.]

i pray we meet again soon
Sunningrocks [TC '23]
Oct 4, 2022
87
4
8
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE​
All of the words in the world couldn't convey the stress in Patchpaw's heart. While she plucked away at the feathers of the dead finch between her paws out of stress-induced habit, she found no joy in the gorgeous golden and black feathers of the bird's wings, instead staring down at it with a sinking feeling in her chest. The poor finch had its wings nearly completely stripped of feathers, leaving the ugly mark of naked skin born and exposed to the sky. It had no choice in the matter; it was dead.

Poor bird didn't deserve to be treated like this.

She collected the feathers up the best she could, shoving them into a pile, and picks up the bird to go offer it to an elder. After all, most cats plucked the feathers before eating it--she couldn't imagine getting bits of feather stuck in one's teeth--but the idea of eating it herself only nauseated her further. With barely a word after the elder accepted it, she was gone, much to their dismay. Soon, the pile of feathers was gone as well as Patchpaw, to be buried not far from camp at the stump of a tree, left with the trunk as its poor old gravestone.
The memory, though, of the bird's naked flesh remained in her mind, a torment to the guilt like a storm in her very soul, squeezing her so, very tight. She could feel her heart beating against her chest, the wind against the tips of her whiskers, the frozen muscles in her bones ready to snap.

Not a single cat knew of what she had seen. The horrors that kept her from joining in the fight for Sunningrocks, the once-known face of the apprentice staring back at her in her dreams, screaming at her to help them as she stood there, as useless as a rat's scrawny tail for breakfast. She had never learned their name, nor of where they came from, but even after returning to the scene of her accomplice's crime to bury them properly--

Pachpaw found herself standing in the halfway point between the leader's den and the high rock, staring with an empty gaze at the figure behind the shrouded veil of winding vines, threatening to coil around her very form if she dared to push past it.
Do not tell her.

Slowly, she forces herself to step through, wedging herself in between the vines so gingerly that one could mistake the soft rustling of vines against her pelt to be the very trees outside, hoping they would not constrict and suffocate her. The leader herself was in here, and it was deathly quiet--she swore she could be given away just by the sound of the painful beating of her own heart.

"... Howlingstar." Her voice was hoarse, as if she had not used it in moons, and the haunted expression in her eyes only further gave away the guilt weighing around her neck like stones. "I--I need you to follow me. Please."

@HOWLINGSTAR​
 
Howlingstar lifts her head as the rustle of the lichen curtain alerts her to a visitor. Many in her clan are well are that their leader doesn't mind guests in her den. In fact, she welcomes them, finding the private conversations to be when she most connects with her clanmates. But the haunted look upon the apprentice's face is far different from the expression she'd had when she first visited Howlingstar in her den. That had been airy, juvenile chatter about childhood crushes. Patchpaw now looked terrified. "Patchpaw?" She mews, immediately getting to her paws. Within a few strides, she stands before her with her ears pressed forward. "...Why? What's wrong?" ​
 
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE​
The concern in Howlingstar’s eyes only furthered the terror clawing at her chest, but she gathered herself together the best she could, facing her leader with all the last shreds of strength she had left. Staring into her eyes now, Patchpaw’s heart internally begged her desperately to let it go, to let it shrivel up and die as nothing more than a memory, but to let someone be forgotten was unforgivable; even if she never knew their name.
"There’s something I need you to see. Something that—" her shaking claws dig into the earth, "—that’s haunted me for much longer than I would like to admit here. I just don’t want anyone else knowing about this."

Patchpaw carefully turns, leading the way back through the hanging fronds with her head held low and ears flat.

It would’ve been strange to see Patchpaw, of all apprentices, striding across and out of the camp through the tunnel entrance, with the leader herself in tow. Patchpaw paid no mind to this, however, instead following an unknown trail through the trees as if she knew this path by heart.
Around the shrubbery, past the juniper bushes and along a line of roots she trod, until finally coming out to a small, sun-spotted clearing, just barely on the outskirts of ThunderClan territory. To any other eye, it was no more than a pleasant little area, perfect for relaxing if one needed it.

For Patchpaw, however, her eyes remained trained on something hidden just beyond the clearing’s edge as she stopped.​
 
The words the apprentice speaks are ominous, causing Howlingstar's head to crane suddenly to the right in a tilt. "What?" She probes, even more confused now than she was before. But Patchpaw is already turning around, exiting her den and leading the way across camp. At this point, the leader feels startled and, dare she say it, frightened by the tone of the young she-cat. She follows after her, eyes narrowing as she realizes she's heading outside of camp. "Patchpaw, stop right now!" She yowls to her, likely gaining the attention of several clanmates but that is hardly her concern. Her concern is Patchpaw's sudden flagrance of the rules as she steps by herself outside the bramble entrance. Where in StarClan is she going?

Frustrated and worried, the plump woman hurries after her. She finally stops when she sees the patched she-cat come to a halt. "Are you going to tell me what this is about?" She demands, clearly agitated as she pins the apprentice with a commanding look. Patchpaw's a sweet girl, but the vagueness of her words and sudden adventure out of camp do not leave the leader pleased. Simultaneously, there is a look of pure concern written across her face as she stares at her. She cares for the young girl, and whatever this is...it's beginning to scare her.​
 
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE​
This was all so, so wrong. Why am I telling her? I could've just let it go—why didn't I tell her in the den, nobody would've overheard them—oh, StarClan, help me…

"I'm so sorry, Howlingstar, for not telling you properly—or at all. It's about—about when that tom clawed my face. I know, it's old, and I wanted to tell you so much sooner than this." Patchpaw, despite the apprehension and anxiety prickling her toes and all sorts of fears begging her to let the leader be, finally meets her gaze. "He also did something else. He murdered an apprentice, who was just barely my age."

Finally, the truth was out. Patchpaw dug her claws further into the forest floor, rooting herself down in an attempt to ground herself. "Then dragged them here, where I had met the tom."
She nodded towards the small raised bump of dirt near a shrub. A small, peculiar round stone had been placed on top of it. "When I had come back to give them a proper burial, I had a realization I hadn't thought about before. That tom could still be a threat."

Her ears flatten. She had been so preoccupied with worrying about the thought of dogs that the tom had been almost completely forgotten, for a time, from her mind—had her nightmares not remind her of the cat now buried at their feet… in ThunderClan territory, when the cat had never been born ThunderClan at all.
"I'm sorry for worrying you, Howlingstar—I—I should've told you earlier. About everything. I don't know anything about the apprentice, just that he was someone from another clan; I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I know."

She pulls her limbs tight close together, facing her fully with concern wraught in her gaze. She wasn’t sure how Howlingstar would react, and the thought chilled her to the bone, but this was necessary. Howlingstar had to know.
​
 
Last edited:
Her spine tingles as fur bristles in shock and alarm. The more Patchpaw says, the more she thinks she can feel eyes peering out at her from the undergrowth. Slowly, her gaze grows wider and she takes a small step back, fright beginning to take hold. "There's....a dead body buried here? That you buried here?" She meows slowly, fixing the she-cat with a horrified look. "This...this cat. He was on our territory and left this body here?" By now, her tail is completely fluffed out and she has to draw in a deep breath to attempt to steady herself. "And you told nobody."

She tries to keep her emotions in check. Patchpaw was younger then. Howlingstar is a mother and a grandmother; she's more than understanding of the immaturity that comes with such a young age. But at the same time, she was still an apprentice, charged with learning how to protect and defend her clan from any and all threats, to protect their borders. She told nobody of a very real, very terrifying threat in their own forest, where they should be safe. She struggles to keep her voice even when she finally speaks, words icy.

"Do you realize the danger you could have put your clan in by not telling anybody?" Her words are eerily slow and she's now looking at the grave, her nerves chilled with terror. How many more times had this cat traipsed through their territory without them knowing? How close did he get to camp? "Patchpaw...your duty is to this clan. How many moons did you keep this a secret?"​
 
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE​
"Emberstar never told you?" The heartbreak in her voice was only barely distinguishable from the shaking anxiety in her throat. "It was six moons ago, the very day I came to camp with these scars on my face. There was no secret to hold from you, or from anyone--I had been attacked. I told Emberstar what I knew about the tom--or, what he told me. I don't really know if he was a ShadowClan warrior, looking back."

Her head dips slightly, guilt ridden and quiet. "The only thing I couldn't bring myself to tell you was the kid buried here. I couldn't even bury them properly; the tom did it all for me."

And for once, Patchpaw fell silent, still staring at the mound of dirt. It was uneven, with awkward lumps on one side, now covered in the beginnings of grass sprouting from the earth. Tears began to well at the corners of her eyes and she swallows thickly. She hasn't seen the tom ever since their first encounter, but the feeling of eyes in the bushes was all too familiar to her, especially here of all places. She had even swore to herself she'd never venture out so far again, and yet here she was, right back at the beginning of where it all had started.

"I made a promise to myself. To--to them. That I wouldn't let it happen again. Even now, as I tell you the truth, I still intend on holding that promise. I love ThunderClan with all of my heart, and to imagine this happening to Stormpaw, or to Cloudypaw or Lichenpaw--I'd rather it be me."
She lifts her head to face Howlingstar with all the little bits and pieces of courage she could muster, despite the dread still attempting to suffocate her of every word. "I'm not going to let it happen a second time. Not again, not ever."​
 
"No secret?" She repeats, voice rising in pitch as apprehension creeps up her spine. She looks again at Patchpaw, eyes wide in terror. "There was a dead body left on our territory! And you came back to bury it and told no one? Where was Rabbitnose?" How many times has she wandered off without him? Has he been clueless this whole time? Before she can ponder his capabilities as a mentor too much, Patchpaw speaks again, promising her loyalty to ThunderClan.

And yet, here the leader stands in front of a grave she did not know was here. No one knew it was here.

A slow, steadying exhale leaves her as she levels the apprentice with a solemn look. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Patchpaw. And more than anything, I'm glad you're safe. But for everyone's safety...we need to know about things like this. You can't keep secrets like this from me, from ThunderClan. That's how you keep us safe," She tries to reason with her, fear etching her voice. She wants to play the role of a mother, the one to coo and tell her it's all okay and she did nothing wrong. But she has to be a leader. The weight of keeping her clan safe is a crushing one and she must shove down the desire to provide support and let her know where she went wrong. Rabbitnose would be hearing of this, and she would ensure Patchpaw does not leave his side for the rest of her apprenticeship. For her safety, and everyone else's. ​
 
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE​
Patchpaw flinches back from the rising distress in Howlingstar's throat, and she forces back the tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. She fully believed Rabbitnose was completely innocent in this, however; it was not his fault that she had strayed from the patrol. It was never his fault to begin with, but the thought that her actions were only making his life worse sank like a stone in her stomach.

She swallows, gritting her teeth hard at the leader's solemn response.

That's how you keep us safe, the words quietly echo in her mind. The sickness in her mind is thickening, rapidly building and tensing her muscles as if ready to fight--no, no, she didn't want to fight--

Clan cats kill each other every day.

You told no one.

No one.

With a twist of her eyes like a shattering dam, Patchpaw screams, "I TOLD YOU! I told you right now! I was trying so hard to tell you for forever and I couldn't--no, NO, I don't know why! But I didn't want to keep it like some horrible secret, I wanted to, so badly, and after the dogs and the fighting over Sunningrocks--it's too much! I wasn't able to bring myself to even talk to anyone about it! You--" She finally stops. Her throat has tightened too far for her to be able to speak, much less speak coherently, and her claws are tearing into the dirt below her with every word. She wrenches herself away from Howlingstar finally, tail lashing.
Of all cats--of all the cats, I thought-- She couldn't stop the tears, either, as they began to fall. Shock had flooded into her very bones, rendering every new attempt to speak fruitless, but she doesn't turn back to face her.

Patchpaw didn't want to even look at her.

"I thought you'd understand."​
 
Howlingstar doesn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. She flinches back in surprise as the apprentice screams at her, taken aback. For a moment she can't even speak, the surprise she felt at the apprentice once so sweet and respectful rendering her speechless. 'I TOLD YOU' and the leader grits her teeth in frustration. You told me six moons later. Her tail lashes behind her, showing her irritation. A moment ago, the apprentice was apologizing for not saying anything, and now she is screaming at her about understanding? If only the world they lived in worked in such a way that understanding could keep a clan safe forever.

The older tabby's eyes narrow as she watches the she-cat, now turned away from her. "Go back to camp now, Patchpaw. I will be talking with Rabbitnose." Disappointment weighs heavy in her voice and she softly shakes her head before turning back to the grave of the stranger, her stomach still ill with the knowledge she now has. If this is now she reacts to a scolding, she is not ready to be a warrior any time soon. Perhaps what she had gone through when she was younger set her back more than any of them realized.​
 
THERE'S A WORLD THAT WAS MEANT FOR OUR EYES TO SEE​
This was all so, so wrong.

Patchpaw grows silent, staring at the forest floor still with shock in her bones as Howlingstar orders her back to camp. In that moment, she had lashed out, all of her broken guts and frustration came spilling out like an abhorrent wave, the sickening feeling growing ever stronger. She hears Howlingstar, given by the flick of a pinned ear, but she can just barely bring herself to respond.

"…Yes, Howlingstar."

It’s a struggle, keeping another sob breaking from her throat, but the last thing Patchpaw wanted was Howlingstar seeing her crying. Lashing out had only made things much worse, if that was even possible—maybe it was better for both of their sakes to have never spoken in the first place. Every bone in her body had told her not to speak—she thought it was because of the madman. Why hadn’t I listened? Why couldn’t I have just stayed with Rabbitnose?

Why couldn’t I have just been a good kid, like everyone else…?

She starts the trek back to camp with her head hung low, silent for the rest of the trip.​
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back