I Must Confess... [Closed]

Flamestrike lay almost entirely still in the mossy nest. His sides rose and fell softly. Any cat would have assumed he was sleeping, but the fiery orange tom merely had no desire to move. The only perk to now taking up residence in the elder's den was his ability to rest. And at times, that too was a frustrating thing. For his entire life the former warrior had always been on his feet. His whole purpose was to fight and care for the time. Now, that was stripped away. That combined with the aching in his foreleg was sometimes unbearable. Everything had fallen into nothing in a mere few moments, simply because his leg had twisted and snapped. Honeydrop had done all she could, but the wound would stay with him for the rest for the rest of his life.

Thinking of his mate frantically working in the medicine cat's den caused a different kind of ache in his chest. How he missed her... leaving camp was now a very rare thing for the disabled tom. They got very little time together since he had left his place in her den. Part of him missed it, but the other part was grateful he was no longer constantly overwhelmed by the stench of herbs. On Honeydrop, it was a comforting scent, but her den was a far different story. Even when he had been there, they had very little time to press up against each other as they once had out in the forest. His ear twitched slightly. A sign of life. Something stirred at the entrance in the same moment. At first, he assumed it was one of the other elders coming back from time out with their clanmates. Thrushstripe never stopped moving. But instead of the now very familiar scent of the ancient tom, he sensed something different. One eye opened lazily. It landed on the black, Shadowclan leader. Hauling himself up with a suppressed grunt, Flamestrike looked at the young leader.

"What can I do for you, Magpiestar? I can only assume you aren't here for the tales of elders."

"A-ah, F-Flamestrike... You a-are here..." Magpiestar stuttered, looking flustered as he entered the den. His tail flicked awkwardly as he slowly approached the new elder. With his eyes averted, he swallowed hard. The tom pawed at the dirt before looking at the red cat in front of him.

"I-I was j-just ma-making rounds, checking u-up on e-everyone. It c-comes wi-with the new d-duties, I suppose," the leader meowed. While it was only partially true a leader was required to take care of their clan, but he had never heard of a leader visiting every clanmate to "check up on them". Perhaps it was the growing paranoia in him. There was an ever-looming sense that something would go horribly wrong while he carried on the title. Despite the reassurance he got from his clanmates, he felt an urgent need to make sure nothing would happen.

"I-Is e-everything alright h-here? Y-Your leg isn't bothering you, r-right? H-Honeydrop is a few steps a-away if you n-need..."

As he sat up awkwardly, wincing slightly at the pain, his green eyes looked over the young leader. Given how much respect he had grown for the former leader, Flamestrike could only offer the same support to his successor, and especially after the title had been thrust upon him far to soon. Magpiestar's stutter made a slight knot of pity form in his chest. Not only had he lost his leader so suddenly and become one himself, the black tom had lost a longtime friend. There was not much he could do but stand behind Magpiestar, even if only as an elder. His ear flicked slightly as he tried to not show much of his outward confusion. The older cat claimed to be checking up on everyone. It seemed a little... strange, to say the least. However, if there was a leader willing to be so involved in every part of his clan, that could not be a bad thing.

"Er, oh, it's fine..." The flame orange tom managed to say, albeit a bit awkwardly. He shifted his weight a bit to attempt to ease the ache. However, there was no doubt that would do much. But, he did not want to waste Honeydrop's precious supplies on himself. Other cats, cats who could actually contribute to the clan, would need it more. The thought of visiting his mate was tempting, but he could sense the pity and sadness in her gaze every time she looked over his fractured limb. He was a reminder of what she now deemed her failure. A barely audible sigh left his maw at the thought before he spoke up once more, "How are things going? With the clan I mean. How is Littlebrook?"

Even if he spent so much time in camp, Flamestrike felt so under involved in the daily workings of Shadowclan life. Everything continued while he wasted the rest of his life away in a musty old den. The thought was rather depressing. However, that did not mean he was disinterested in clan life. As much as the questions were out of what felt like obligation, there was a bit of genuine curiosity. His good friend, and once supposed mate, had been named as the new deputy. For that much he had dragged himself from his mossy habitat. He hoped that Magpiestar would be willing to at least share a bit of what went on outside of the walls of the elder's den. For so long, he had been told he was a trusted clan warrior. And, aside from his new title, he hoped that still rang true. If only he knew... The orange tom thought as a familiar pang of guilt wormed its way into his stomach while he waited for a response.

The leader paused. While the clan was well, Littlebrook was a subject he felt less akin to talking about with Flamestrike. Afterall, it seemed his dear deputy wasn't being quite so true to her mate. With a slight twinge of pity in his eyes, he looked at the elder, clearing his throat roughly before speaking.

"T-The clan is well... L-Littlebrook is performing her d-duties with honour, a-as any deputy should. I think the c-clan will do well with her." Magpiestar swallowed hard, his eyes drifting away once more. C-Could he tell him? Wouldn't it just add insult to injury? The bright coloured tom was already driven down by his crippled leg. To tell him his mate was being... swept away, would it be fine?

"There i-is something I-I must confess..." the black tom began, muzzle scrunching up and eyes growing hard. He couldn't sit by and ignore it. If it were him, he would want to know. "L-Littlebrook has been... She's been much too friendly with Mudfoot lately. I-I don't think they're just friends anymore." The leader bowed his head in apology. "I-I'm sorry. It is quite uncomfortable w-watching them, I must admit. K-Knowing s-she isn't t-true to you, k-knowing my s-son does not r-respect you, nor his p-past mates... As much fun as i-it may b-be, I don't think it's v-very a-appropriate." Was it him trying to reassure Flamestrike that he was on his side? Or was it the slight mistrust he felt in his own son? Magpiestar couldn't tell.

A smile flickered across his maw as the leader mentioned his friend's success as a deputy. He had known she would be perfect for the position. It would have never been a place for him, but Littlebrook was most certainly the cat for the job. Magpiestar had chosen well. He shifted slightly to move the weight from his ever aching foreleg. But as Magpiestar grew serious, he froze. The tone sounded far different than what he had expected from the black leader. As Flamestrike heard the news of Mudfoot and Littlebrook, the smile faltered. Mudfoot was not the biggest fan of him in the slightest since Wolffang's death. However, he was happy his friend was able to find a true mate in someone else. While they had been close companions, their relationship was never real and far from romantic.

"I-I honestly don't know what to say..." He muttered, genuinely not able to find words. However, not for the reason his leader might have thought. Anything other than sadness would reveal the truth. But as guilt wrenched his stomach for the thousandth time, the former warrior wondered if it would be such a bad idea.

His claws dug into the ground as he fought with himself internally. It was the exact same thing he had debated with over and over again. As much as he found the rule of forbidden love to be ridiculous, he had broken the warrior code and lied to his clan. The thought of dying in his sin was almost unbearable. There was no doubt Starclan looked down at them with a mix of pity and anger in their watchful eyes. Flamestrike hadn't spoken with his true mate in quite sometime. With his inability to leave camp and her ever busy job as medicine cat, Honeydrop had been distant. He never had the chance to talk this over with her. But, as the flame-colored tom sat there with a weight on his chest, he could see no other option but the truth. A heavy sigh left his chest, and caught in his throat. There was a chance Honeydrop would hate him after this, but it was better to be honest himself than have some other cat share the secret.

"I appreciate you telling me, Magpiestar," He paused, convincing himself to go on, "but I am happy that she has finally found a cat that makes her happy... although we were close, I could have never been that cat..." Flamestrike's breathing hitched as he found himself unable to breathe. Swallowing the nerves, the warrior mustered up as much will as he ever had to get the last part out, "because she was never my mate or the mother of my kits. Honeydrop was.."

And the weight was lifted.