How long had he been staring into the open sky? The night has swallowed up the moors for a while now. The last evening patrol had already tucked in for the night, he could hear their snoring from where he laid. It was a crescent moon tonight, another night where his mother would not wake him. Another night he was reminded his father wasn't beyond the fence anymore. He couldn't help but stare at the collection of stars for hours in place of the journey they would have made, wondering if his father was up there with them.
A simple rogue who had begun to believe in StarClan. But it wasn't enough for Sootstar to let him into WindClan. And so he stayed in that barn, praying to the starlight that one day he would be able to nest alongside his mate and watch his son earn his warrior name. Prayers never answered, prayers now rung dull in Heatherpaw's ears.
Suddenly he rose from his rest and glanced around the sleeping bodies. It was warm, the occasional cool breeze passing through the hollow. Pleasant enough that nearly the whole Clan was out sleeping under the stars now. It didn't take long for him to find who he needed, eyes quick in the dark from his tunneling. Heatherpaw approached the other apprentice quietly, nudging his shoulder. "Hey, wake up. We're going for a walk."He muttered to Peonypaw with another nudge.
✿ — If Peonypaw is honest, he would tell you the newleaf air is like a blessing from StarClan itself to him. The air is considerably more warmer than what he was used to before - the only other season he knew that is, in the form of chilly winds, sparkling snow, and visible puffs of breath that sometimes acts as a nice bonus to kitten-play but is more often just a stark reminder of the freezing temperatures. His thin form is eternally grateful that even the light breeze passing through the camp isn't cold.
Of course, he would never allow a single soul to be aware of this, much preferring the concept that a kit being born in leaf-bare is simply used to its traits.
His form is half-splayed out and half-curled up in his own dip of the ground, eyes closed but mind not quite in wonderland. Heatherpaw's sudden stir means Peonypaw is aware of every single one of his motions, and the nudge comes as no surprise.
"You really picked the perfect time." His voice drips with sarcasm, grouchier than usual due to almost-sleep, but Peonypaw rises nevertheless. His claws unsheathe as he stretches in an attempt to get life back into his paws. Heatherpaw's presence always feels oddly homely, considering he's older than Peonypaw and would always be one step ahead, leaving him to chase after. "Couldn't sleep?"
Seeing Peonypaw begin to stir sent a brief relief through the red tom. From how easily he woke Heatherpaw could assume he wasn't in as deep of a sleep as the warriors sounded, but just enough to bitterly comply. Of course, Heatherpaw would react just the same. Maybe even snap teeth at the prodding paw, but he knew Peonypaw was above that.
He took a step back to give him the space to stretch and ground himself from his almost-sleep. He glanced around to check if their voices had interrupted anyone else's rest nearby, but it looked like the two were the only ones fully awake so far. Heatherpaw wanted to get out of camp before they caught the attention of anyone else, especially Robinfang. His mentor's patience for the tabby had been growing thin as of late, and it wasn't like he could exactly tell the older warrior why he was acting out.
"Yeah." Heatherpaw mumbled, brushing past Peonypaw closely to guide them out of the hollow. Once they made it a safe distance away from the snoozing Clan, his paws set onward toward that picket fence across the moors. "Can't sleep, mother won't leave the den lately. Tigerfrost is dead, other warriors have died in less than a solid moon... I don't know. I feel like everyone else is content pretending that they won't be the next body presented to Sootstar. Robinfang doesn't even believe in StarClan." Just as Peonypaw felt comfortable around him, Heatherpaw felt no different. He didn't mind confiding in the other, knowing his words wouldn't travel to someone else's ears.
"I feel like I'm constantly in a test I hadn't prepared for, and the punishment for failure is evident in everything dying here. It's coming onto Greenleaf for stars sake, didn't they tell us we were supposed to be safe?"
✿ — Ever silent and careful paws weaved through his sleeping Clanmates. Peonypaw in general would hate to disturb another for his own schemings, but there is more on the line now: whatever Heatherpaw has on his mind is not meant for the curious ears of warriors. That much is obvious from the dark yet glittering sky above. No apprentice wakes in the dead of night and gets out of eavesdrop areas if all they want to talk about is the previous morning's patrol or the midday's hunt.
Peonypaw's steps falter for just a moment as Heatherpaw continues the trek, further and further away from camp. We'll get in trouble, his brain practically screams at him, and for what it's worth, it tries. It tries to keep logic afloat but- well, they do say curiosity killed the cat.
And so Peonypaw follows without a word of complaint.
He takes in Heatherpaw's pain in silence, at first. There's a lot to unpack here. At the very least Peonypaw now knows he is not alone in thinking similarly - that the alarming amount of deaths lately only makes you wonder... "They think pretending will make everything normal again," he muses, quiet. "Have a vigil and be done with it."
Whether he thinks this is good or not is up to debate. Not even Peonypaw can decide, because who is he to say no to Clan customs?
"Wait, doesn't believe in StarClan?" His brows furrow as he raises his head to look at Heatherpaw. Now that is unexpected, whereas turmoil over the last few moons of WindClan's life is not. "But there's proof they exist. How can he ignore that?"
Heatherpaw felt his jaw tense, tail lashing lowly over blades of grass. At the very least he knew he could trust Peonypaw to understand how he felt. His mentor, as dearly he cared for Robinfang, was not well equipped handling Heatherpaw's strong will and the stubborn presence of his more unsavory feelings. His mother had been so distant, she hardly heard a word he said most the time. Staying wrapped around her nest or countless hours traversing tunnels aimlessly, returning to camp with nothing to say or show what she had done.
Mismatched eyes turn up to the midnight pelted sky, stars dotting across moonlight. When he looked across the moors it felt like the midnight would swallow them up. He paused to rest beside some brush, flexing his paw pads. He didn't like traveling the moors as much as he preferred the tunnels anymore.
"I'm done with it too." He mumbled. The other Clans, form what he heard, were performing perfectly fine. Yet they all picked on WindClan, he wondered if they envied them? Were they intimidated by WindClan's power? Was StarClan humbling their advancements? "No, he doesn't. He wasn't there at the Great Battle, he doesn't think it's entirely true. He said, that it sounded like a story. Meant to excuse everyone involved of guilt for all the killing. He joined only a few weeks after Sootstar claimed the moors." A kittypet, he would have added, but that information had not been intended for Heatherpaw's ears.
After pulling the soreness away from his paws he continued their trip again. "I guess he's convinced it's all coincidental. He hasn't taken me to the moonstone yet, though. Hasn't been there himself. I think he'll change his mind when that happens..." Heatherpaw doesn't meet Peonypaw's gaze this time. Admittedly he felt ashamed of his mentor, knowing what greatness he himself was destined for. Only to be saddled up with a non-believer. A Blasphemer. Another test from the stars.
"I can't wait to go to the moonstone... I know StarClan expects more of me. The medicine cats gets to speak with them so often though, I wonder why they don't like to talk with the rest of us. What could be so bad about speaking with us sometimes too?" He kicked a small rock ahead of them, watching it tumble down the hil as they descended with it.
✿ — Peonypaw's gaze folllows Heatherpaw's, up and up until he has to tip his head back to fully take the night in. He sits beside his friend, close enough that their pelts almost brush. Peonypaw is not one to initiate physical contact much aside from maybe a fleeting paw or tip of his tail between the shoulders, but he is always amongst the first to let others know he is there.
"That's-" Peonypaw starts, mouth hanging open as he considers what to call that. Insanity? Robinfang is not hare-brained, or so was the assumption so far. "-insane." That'll have to do, then.
He considers asking Heatherpaw the rhetorical question of why Robinfang thought joining WindClan's ranks was a good idea if he's full of disbelief, but Peonypaw stops himself. There's nobody here but them, and yet he already feels hot under his fur just thinking about showing such disrespect towards a warrior.
Instead, he simply follows Heatherpaw once they're on their paws again.
"Do you think StarClan shows themselves to those who don't believe?" Peonypaw wonders out loud despite the fact that neither of them can possibly answer that. He'd love to see the expression of a cat proven wrong, that's for certain.
He lets his eyes rest on his friend again. Takes Heatherpaw all in - so wound up after life has treated him so unfairly, still striving to live up to expectations... whether those are self-made or not. Moreso the latter, Peonypaw thinks. "Maybe they can't. Or maybe we wouldn't understand what they say so clearly." He pauses, lets something child-like slip out for once. "I'd love to be able to talk to them more, though. Medicine cats are so lucky."
Heatherpaw chuckled at his friend, shrugging his shoulders. Now that he had chewed and spat out his bitterness, he felt a bit calmer. The tension that bubbled within him had eased. He knew Robinfang would have his tail, and maybe his head, if he found out Heatherpaw had told anyone the secret, but he was confident Peonypaw knew not to spread it. The red tabby loved his mentor nearly like a father. They both shared a secret, Heatherpaw with his father, and Robinfang with his skepticism.
Though it sometimes made it difficult, it wasn't something that caused much trouble. His mentor was respectful when Heatherpaw would suggest his father was happy in the stars, guided to a life of peace due to his mothers interference. But other times, in occasions like asking what he may see when he visits the moonstone, Robinfang's lack of faith was a struggle.
"For his sake, I hope so." He sighed. "They wouldn't be that cruel. He's lived within the moors longer than most cats here. He follows the code like everyone else... I think he can be saved."
Their walk began to slow, the picket fence in sight. Heatherpaw stopped at the peak of another incline, staring at the fence for a while. He didn't want to go under it, but just seeing it had felt... well, it didn't feel horrible. But not as relieving as he wanted it to be either. "I think I'm ready to go back now." He leaned his shoulder against Peonypaw, not making any move quite yet. He wanted to enjoy a bit more of the quiet night with his friend. "If we ever get to talk to StarClan... promise we'll tell each other?" A childish promise to make, but his tone was entirely serious.
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