Will You Be Remembered?

It was late, as if the moon shining high above the sky wasn't obvious enough. Why Falconfang was still up wasn't the correct question: the question truly was why wasn't he in the warrior's den? He had never thought of sleeping anywhere but the den, but now it felt as if something was calling to him, telling him to step outside. The tired tom had had quite the eventful off-screen day; due to the punishment handed down by Stormstar, he had spent almost all day hunting for the clan and caring for the elders who truly exist and aren't a figment of Stormstar's imagination. Still, he couldn't complain... it could've been much, much worse. And now, at a time that he should have been sleeping, he was standing just outside the den, looking up at the moon. It was quite beautiful, to be sure.

After a moment of just staring up at the moon and the stars littered around the glowing sphere, Falconfang finally laid down on the cool grass, his fluffy fur allowing him to buffet the majority of the dense, cold air that hung around the camp this leafbare. Something just felt right about lying outside the dens, with seemingly nothing separating him from his starry ancestors. That was one thing on his mind: the cats of Starclan, who he wondered if they were watching him right then. It had been a bit of time since he had been caught at Fourtrees by Raccoonheart, yet every day he felt as if every stare was an accusatory one, as if he would never outlive what he had done. But now, as he gave another glance to the dark sky, another thought entered his mind, one that he had been trying to suppress ever since he had become a warrior. Will I be remembered? He remembered being a kit and staring up at the intimidating presence of Stormstar as he spoke of the meetings that took place on the Highrock, and even then he had wanted to be mentioned there by the leader, to be known... to be remembered. What if no one remembers me? That was a thought that had gnawed at him throughout all of his kithood, the thought that when he died, he would just be... forgotten. Another warrior that lived in the clans, nothing more. A shiver went down his spine, but it wasn't from the cold: the thought wasn't a very pretty one.

Of course, he had done something memorable. By the next Gathering, every clan would know of him as the mousebrained Windclan tom who had shacked up with a Riverclan she-cat. Some remembrance. He didn't want to be remembered solely for breaking the rules, but what else had he done? He'd be lucky to be remembered at all... Falconfang shook his head to try and chase these terrible thoughts away, but they stuck to his mind like cobwebs. He was a rule-breaking tom in a weak, dwindling clan who would die and be forgotten as soon as his cold body was in the ground. He sighed and pushed his nose into his paws. Sleep would not come easy this night.

Hearing something stirring outside the den Minteyes rose and padded outside. Seeing the tom laying there she walked sleepily over to him. "What are you doing?" The she-cat made sure to stand back because she didn't know how Falconfang would react.

Falconfang turned to look at Minteyes, no trace of shock in his blue eyes: he had learned that members of his clan would appear suddenly like this. "I'm just..." he thought for a moment before just deciding to tell the truth. "I wanted to be closer to our ancestors," he admitted, looking up at the stars. "And I needed to think..."

Minteyes nodded and said nothing. She could understand why he wanted to be closer to Silverpelt. "What were you thinking about?"

"About..." He was quiet for a moment, staring off into the territory. "About what I've done," he admitted. "I haven't done anything to be remembered for... well, to be remembered for in a positive light," he remarked sadly. "I don't think anyone is going to remember me when I'm gone."

The she-cat walked towards Falconfang and sat beside him. As she listened her eyes saddened. Minteyes nuzzled her head into his side, "I will.", the warrior said quietly.

The young warrior gave Minteyes a soft, broken smile, swishing his tail from side to side. "I know," he whispered, "but will I be known for anything throughout the clans? Stormstar doesn't even trust me, and I don't deserve to have him trust me. I messed up and now that's all I'm known for. I'd be lucky to even get an apprentice now, and it's..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Do you remember when we were kits and Stormstar was showing us the Highrock or Tallrock I forgot? I couldn't wait to become a warrior because I knew that I could be a good part of my clan... that I could be remembered. But now... now it's like I threw it all away."

Listening to the tom speak she felt his pain. "You don't need to be known around the clans, just here in WindClan." Nodding she did remember that time. "Stormstar will, Raccoonheart will, I will and everyone else in the clan." Minteyes sighed.

He turned to her with pain in his eyes, regret for what he had done and the desperation for forgiveness. "I never meant to hurt anybody... and I'm so sorry." He looked down at the ground for a moment, collecting all his thoughts.

OoC: Sorry for the short post; I'm heading out now.

The she-cat's gaze carried out in space. She listened to his words and nodded slightly. "I know." Minteyes licked the tom's head.

Feeling his fur grow hot with slight embarrassment, Falconfang just smiled softly and closed his eyes. "It feels nice out here, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does." The she-cat sat still, not something she had been doing in the last few minutes.

The two cats sat silently for a few moments, just letting the elements comfort them. After a little bit, Falconfang moved closer to Minteyes and pressed against her fur. He felt slightly embarrassed, but just closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of her fur against his.

Sitting there she felt a slight pressure in her side, noting that it was Falconfang she just smiled. A purr moved up her throat and Minteyes nuzzled the tom.

Laying next to Minteyes, for once the tom felt at peace. It had been awhile since he had felt so... serene. "If only every day could be like this," he mewed softly.