Fishing up a Friendship (Closed)

There were so many things Nutfur had done that she regretted with all her heart. She would go over them in her mind, but by now there were too many to count. At the moment just one seemed significant enough to bother her mind. If it weren't for her, Lionspark would have never been captured. If she had been a little faster, landed a few more blows to knock her out, she would have just went back to ThunderClan camp with the rest. Or if she had let herself be defeated, the warrior could have had the chance to escape. But now because of her actions, the half blind she-cat was a prisoner of RiverClan and being kept in the cavern. Now she had endangered Cobwebkit as well. At least Ivystar hadn't tried to justify her like she did Otterleap. She didn't despise the tom himself, but the way their leader had defended him was disgusting. Murder, no matter what the reason, was horrible. And at least the cat who did it felt bad about it. But though that seemed like it made him a better cat, it didn't seem to fit for her. It didn't justify her actions because she had apologized afterwards, that did literally nothing! For some reason she didn't blame Vixenstep nearly as much. She had done the same thing, even down to the detail of apologizing. But she held nothing against her, even seeing her as a better cat for seeing the error of her ways. But she didn't feel that way about herself. She didn't know why she had come back here. Maybe to remind herself of the horrible things she and her clan did. Or maybe to mark the borders. Or remember her fight with that rogue who fought for ThunderClan. Whatever the reason, she had come back. And felt so much worse for it.

Vixenstep sighed sadly. Once upon a time, Sunningrocks was a place where she could relax. Now it was just a reminder of all the things her Clan had done just for a patch of land. The blood had since been washed away by snow, melting or otherwise, but Vixenstep could swear that she could smell the foul, metallic stench of blood. Closing her eyes, she let her soft white chest fur be ruffled in the cold breeze. Suddenly, a quiet noise made her ears prick and her eyes open. What if it's a ThunderClanner? she thought, panicking. In classic Vixenstep fashion, she slipped behind a cluster of stones and prepared to pounce. Am I really this much of a low-life? her ears flattened against her head and she almost hissed at herself. Idiot, she thought scathingly. Nose raising to sniff the cold air, she attempted to identify the cat approaching. Thank StarClan, it's a RiverClanner, her nose assured her. Tip-toeing out from her hiding, she saw none other than Nutfur; the she-cat Vixenstep had briefly spoken to after the war. While taking away two valued members of ThunderClan. Now that she thought about it, those weren't exactly memories she treasured. "Um, h-hi Nutf-fur," she stuttered awkwardly. "I was just... mulling over th-things, you know?" This was a very general use of words, but the look in her pale green eyes attempted to communicate what she was really thinking about.

"Oh! Hello Vixenstep, you surprised me." Nutfur gave a start of surprise when Vixenstep approached her, but soon her tensed muscles relaxed. She was just a clanmate. Once again, the memory of capturing Lionspark burned brightly in her mind. They were the two cats who had lead to her capture. But it had to mean something that they both felt more guilt than most cats could even imagine, and neither of them supported the war. "Yeah, me too. I still can't believe Ivystar took captives. What would a medicine cat do against our clan? Heal us to death? And the warrior is half blind!" She hadn't meant to say that much, but the still fresh anger made her do so. Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, and guilt glistened in her eyes. She didn't want to seem like she was blaming the warrior next to her, quite the opposite. This whole thing was her fault. She could have knocked that cat out before the thought had even crossed Ivystar's mind! But she hadn't. And now she would be forever plagued with the memory of that golden she-cat, her one good eye full of fear. And she had done the opposite of what would make that fear go away.