Stained Sunset [IC]

Frostflower sighed as she made the final leap down from the high rafters of the abandoned twoleg construct, her thoughts nearly as downcast as the sunset sky. She was surprised at how lonely she had been feeling lately, despite spending most of her time training with Crimsonpaw. Soon he too would become a warrior, her third apprentice to do so since having become a warrior. By all rights she had lead a successful life, and she had enjoyed nothing more than spending her time training the Clan's next generation of warriors. Yet a strange unfamiliar pain had itched at the back of her mind, and it was becoming unbearable.

She wanted a family of her own so desperately. Her parents had both passed on from greencough during this past leafbare, and she had no siblings to speak of. She had never felt so alone. It was strange, to be surrounded by so many and feel so estranged from it all. She scolded herself for acting like this. Her parents had been elders, likely to pass anytime from old age. Yet it still felt like there was an aching gap in her chest she needed desperately to fill.

Frostflower was drawn from her dark thoughts by the familiar voice of IvyClan's medicine cat. He was a kind cat, and they had been den mates for some time before he had taken the path of the medicine cat. He sounded as troubled as she felt and it left her deeply unsettled. She padded up behind him quietly and asked, "Laurelheart, is something troubling you?"

This was why he needed his sister to drag her body across his, head-butt his shoulder and pull him out of the trance. Alone as he was he could never quiet his thoughts, make himself see reason. You needed another cat to do that and Newtpaw was gone now, and she had for far longer than she lived. With a huge effort he drew his head down, back to the mundane world of splintering wood underpaw and the forest stretching out behind him.

Perhaps he was too engrossed in the sky to test the scent or maybe he wanted something inherently warrior like to take his mind off things; either way he reacted with hostility. He spun, fur sticking out in all directions, ears plastered to his skull, and growled softly. White pelt, light grey ears, clan scent, embarrassment flushed the tension out of his body.

“I’m sorry Frostflower, I thought…” What was he supposed to say? That he was itching for a fight? It wasn’t a position befitting the medicine cat of a clan. “You surprised me, that’s all.” Laurelheart said finally. It took another moment for him to run through the question in his mind until the words had meaning. He settled for a half truth. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Sometimes it’s hard is to pick signs from the mundane is all.”

Startled by the sudden hostility, Frostflower took a step back and lowered herself slightly in order to show she was no threat. Still the muscles in her shoulders tensed instinctively, and she found herself looking for weak points in his stance. She was relieved when he relaxed and she sat up, turning her eyes to the sky Laurelheart had been watching so intently for a long moment.

She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to receive signs from StarClan. She had not thought on it much since she had become a warrior, with little ambition to become leader and no inclination toward healing. She remembered when the white tom had been a warrior apprentice with her, she would never have believed that he was destined to receive the words of their ancestors. Yet it seemed so fitting now, and she couldn't quite place what had changed.

"With skies like that, you'll forgive me if I hope it is mundane," Frostflower mewed thoughtfully before licking her paw and swiping it over her ears, "Smells like a storm is brewing."

And it looked like the sky itself was bleeding. “My thought exactly, Frostflower.” A sunset like this one left any sane cat hoping it only marked the falling of night. Luckily for him the she-cat seemed to let his sudden hostility slide for every sign of aggression in his clanmate had fled with his own.

She must think he was crazy, turning on her like that. Laurelheart drew a deep breath, fighting to regain his composure. It seemed like not a whole lot had changed for her over the many moons since they shared a den; same blue eyes, same soft pelt and same serious demeanour when it came to the rules. Then there was Laurelheart, about as different to the broken new warrior who slept at the other end of the den as a cat to a badger.

He shook his head to bring him back to the new-leaf day drawing to a close. “What are you doing out here alone? I would have thought you would be busy preparing Crimsonpaw for his ceremony.”

Frostflower rolled her ears back and glanced away slightly, unable to stop herself from shifting her weight in discomfort. Truthfully, she didn't want to think of Crimsonpaw's ceremony, as with no kits currently ready for apprenticeship, she was guaranteed the free time she dreaded so. That, and the young apprentice could still be rather clumsy and unfocused at times. He had the potential to be an amazing warrior, and she was determined to help him get there.

"I needed some time to think, and I like the view from the roof," she admitted with a sigh, "I think I must be getting old before my time. I've been feeling... Off. I'm not quite certain how to explain it."

In truth she knew exactly what was wrong, but it had never been easy for her to express her feelings to others. Besides, the medicine cat didn't need her problems on top of everything he already had to deal with. She turned and licked her tail, hoping that Laurelheart hadn't caught her forced smile.

There was an odd fleeting tension to Frostflower which, along with the way she skipped over the mention of Crimsonpaw, made Laurelheart realize he’d touched a nerve. Few mentors with an apprentice this age would deny the opportunity to boast of their apprentice’s prowess. Was this a simple oversight or some sign of discord between the pair? Laurelheart’s eyes narrowed slightly but he merely made a mental note to keep his eye on them both.

The white tom nodded his agreement; despite the fierceness of the wind and the roughness of the splintered wood this was one of his favourite places in the territory. For the second time Laurelheart’s curiosity was struck. Off? Was she sick? The scent coming off Frostflower was clean but sometimes scents took a while to change. A late bout of green-cough, a stomach bug, pregnancy; all things he should be made aware of.

“Is everything alright? There’s more to my job than licking scratches, you know.” He was entirely focused on Frostflower still but he looked, away and started licking his shoulder in a feint of disinterest.

"Thank you for your concern," Frostflower purred, before continuing in a serious tone "I think I am just reaching a difficult transition in my life. I've become quite attached to Crimsonpaw, you know. Of all my apprentices, none have been quite so eager. He's happy to perform any task, even assisting the Elders. I'll quite miss our training sessions when he becomes a warrior. He makes me wonder if I am missing something."

None of this was a lie. Watching Crimsonpaw's endless optimism made her quite proud. He might have still needed some work on little things, just refinement really. Still, it was not easy for the she-cat to admit her own clouded mind. She had worked so hard in her life, trained three wonderful apprentices, hunted, fought, and bled for her Clan. How could she be so dissatisfied? She glanced up at the darkening skies, hoping to catch a calming glimpse of the stars through the clouds.

She thought she saw a few faint glimmers, but no warming calm came to her and she turned her eyes to her Laurelheart instead. He had changed since the last time they had spoken without the context of illness or injury. Of course that had been when they were young warriors, and he was still reeling from the loss of Newtpaw. Seeing him so heartbroken had been difficult for everyone, with no one entirely sure what to say or do. She was glad that he seemed to have moved past it.

“I’m sure Moonkit and Burnkit will be apprentices in the blink of an eye.” It was only after these words slipped from his mouth that Laurelheart realized he was the one missing something in the conversation. “Maybe we’re growing restless as the seasons pass?”

It was hard to put into words, well without raising serious doubts about his competency as a medicine cat at any rate. This urge to move his paws, to feed his clan, dirty his claws it had never been quite this strong, even when he was brand new to being a medicine cat. He was still able to do all these things – it wasn’t as if he was confined to camp – but these days it was never enough.

A strong gust buffeted his pelt and the white tom resumed his old position, following the gaze of his clanmate up to the sky. Clouds, stars and then if you stripped all that away just a great, bleak openness. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt that summed his current state of mind up so perfectly. Staring at the sky for answers was getting him nowhere. He looked away from the sky and down to the forest. He still couldn’t imagine a life not tending to his clanmates and that was all that mattered.

"Oh they will be. But if I was asked, I would recommend a younger warrior," Frostflower chuckled softly as she realized how old she was making herself out to be, "I'm being absurd,aren't I?"

She huffed and shifted her weight back and forth as she tried desperately to find the words. What terrible thing was going to happen if she told Laurelheart her frustration? When no answer came to her, she stood and turned fully to face the medicine cat, her gaze intense. When she realized he was looking into the trees and not at her, a slight pressure lifted.

"Please don't laugh," She requested softly, in a tone rather unlike herself, "I have - No, I am - no," She paused again and took a deep breath before she simply blurted out, "I've been feeling dissatisfied. Not with my work or Clan life, with myself. By my age most she-cats have found a mate, or had a litter of kits! I had never felt the drive for it until recently, and now it clouds my thoughts and I worry it interferes with my ability to train Crimsonpaw or to give the Clan my all... It all sounds so foolish when I say it out loud."

After her rant was done she grimaced, her skin burning and her ears flattened against the back of her head. Once she had started she had simply been unable to stop. She wanted to wail, but settled for staring blankly at her paws. She felt like she was just 6 moons old, about to be scolded by her mentor. She wanted to run and hide herself away from this embarrassment. Yet she found herself rooted to the spot.

Well, I suppose I’m not the worst cat in the clan to ask. I suppose Cherrypaw* knows even less about this kind of thing than I do… Laurelheart watched his white paws flex and unflex against the weather worn wood, it was as if they were moving of their own accord to knead the tension out of the conversation. From the corner of his eye he could see Frostflower cowering as if expecting some horrendous punishment, a fresh heat spread across his cheeks. In the back of his mind a voice was laughing; here they were, four winters apiece, acting like a pair of embarrassed apprentices. He looked around desperately. Was this the kind of thing he could pass off to the queens? No, she’d confided in him, that wouldn’t be right. He breathed deeply, stilled his paws and then looked up at Frostflower’s neck unable to quite meet her eyes.

“You’re not being absurd, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with focusing on yourself.” As far as he could tell he wasn’t butchering this completely, which gave him the courage to shift his gaze to her muzzle. “Well it’s not like you’d be abandoning the clan or Crimsonpaw if you had a litter, if that’s what you want to do.”

Sometimes the only way forwards, with everything from early retirement to late apprenticeships for sickly kits, was to pick an answer and see how loud the protests were. The only impartial advice he could give was to follow her heart which wasn’t enough somehow.

(*Cherrypaw is his apprentice, when/if her roleplayer rejoins)

Frostflower felt a strange weight lift from her shoulders at that moment, and a new kind of embarrassment flushed her skin. Had she assumed there was something inherently wrong with her desire for a family? With a moment of thought she realized that yes, that had been a part of her problem. She had never looked down on queens who chose to make the nursery their home, and yet she felt a strange shame when she considered starting a family of her own. She stared thoughtfully at her paws for a long time.

After a minute she realized she was stressing too much about this. If StarClan willed this for her, then the time would come. Many she-cats had kits when they were seasons older than she was. Yet, it still burdened her in a way she did not understand. Of course, the realm of the emotional had never been a place where she excelled. Expressing herself was never easy, and this was quite possibly one of the biggest reasons she didn't already have a mate.

"You are right, of course," Frostflower sighed after realizing she had probably been silent too long, "I never have been very good at dealing with this sort of thing. Though I suppose you don't exactly have much experience in it either."

The silence stretched on too long, growing into something heavy and alive, and Laurelheart found his gaze slipping once more to the weather worn wood. He shook his head and instead settled on the tree a tail length to the left of Frostflower’s head. He could deal with apprentices who needed to be taught how kits were made without batting an eyelid but something about cats who wanted a personal opinion on things like this and had him running for the hills.


Much experience? Try zero. It wasn’t that he’d never looked at a cat in that way but ever since reaching maturity he was always distracted; with his sister, nursing a broken heart and finally with training to become a medicine cat. It was strange, he mused, how matter of factly he thought about all this; as if it was about some other cat. He felt strangely cold, moreso than the wind continuing its assault against his fur would suggest.


“Well, it’s bound to happen from time to time.” He meowed gently, whiskers twitching. “I can’t say I have. I’ll confess I’m much more comfortable surrounded by elders with aching joints than I am with matters of the heart.”


Was that sad? No, he decided, that was life.

Frostflower smiled softly at his response. Laurelheart was a medicine cat, so it made sense that this topic was not one with which he was as comfortable. She respected the focus with which he performed his duties to the Clan, and she had heard more than one story about medicine cats of the past who were not as loyal to their oath.

"Yet you have made my heart feel much lighter. I can't thank you enough for that," She purred politely, "And I am certain the elders welcome your company. You are a good listener, and I imagine you do more than the rest of us could for those joints."

Frostflower got up and stretched, digging her claws into the soft dirt. She couldn't help but think about the fact that by the next new-leaf she would have to begin to consider retirement as well, but quickly shook the thought off. She well knew that they would have to force her into retirement. Even though she wasn't quite as spry as she had once been, she still felt too young to spend her days sunning herself in camp. She couldn't yet imagine a day where she wasn't hunting for herself and providing for her Clan.

"So, on a lighter topic, do you have any suggestions for Crimsonpaw's final assessment? I was considering running the typical battle test and hunting assessment, but I would always welcome a way to change things up," She mewed thoughtfully, glad to find a moment to change the subject back to her apprentice, "I was thinking about asking if any younger warriors were being considered as Burnkit and Moonkit, have them assist. Perhaps Pantherstep?"
Her mind was so much clearer now, and she was glad for it. Laurelheart was an easy cat to talk to, and it was nice to speak with a cat more her age for once.