I Hate You, You Hate Me (Closed)

Hillfire sat outside the warrior's den, grooming the fur on his chest down. Not really because it needed it, but because smoothing his fur always made him look a bit busy and cat he didn't want to talk to wouldn't talk to him. From his seat, he could see basically all of camp, but wasn't really looking. Even though RiverClan was the best clan, the days were practically identical still and hardly anything of worth ever happened within camp. Sure, kits played a game and it was supposed to be cute and interesting, but he just imagined them as real warrior and wanted to see them actually hunt or fight in a real battle. Looking at the apprentice's den, he remembered how just a few days ago that was where he had lived. But now he was so much more than merely Hillpaw. Now he was a real warrior. Unlike some cats his age. There were quite a few cats who were his age or older who weren't even close to getting their warrior name yet, usually due to their excessive weakness. Or maybe the fact that they weren't enough of a warrior to even have the guts to talk, let alone fight. One of those kinds of cats just happened to walk into his view at that very moment, causing him to roll his eyes. Featherpaw. They were practically the same age (he was actually slightly younger) but while he was a strong and independent warrior, she could still freeze up when put on the spot, hardly able to speak. Pathetic. Probably because her father, that traitor. Becoming mates with Nutfur was the second biggest mistake he had ever made. Standing up, he padded right over to the apprentice he was looking at. It wouldn't do her any harm to just toughen her up a bit.
"Hey Featherpaw, is the apprentice's den still nice? It's been been a while since I've slept there. It's strange that you were the first of us to leave the nursery, yet I've left the apprentice's den before you're even close to having the guts to do so," Hillfire remarked, as if just stating simple facts and not anything that would be potentially hurtful. Of course, he did know he wasn't exactly being nice, but he was just trying to toughen Featherpaw up a bit. Remove the weaklings so RiverClan could remain the best forever. Because if she couldn't deal with a few mean words from him, how would she ever deal with a real fight?

OOC: Thank you for creating the topic!

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IC:
With her plumy tail fluttering lesuirely, Featherpaw stretched her neck to smoothen her long, soft silver-pewter fur on her side, her tongue grooming her pelt with a steady, rhythmic pattern. Her pale mint eyes were eased as she allowed the glowing sunbeams soaking into her silky pelt to tranquillize her. She felt in a serene state, not feeling unsettled or anxious for once. It felt calm to just spend some time alone, with no cat to disturb or bother her, to sort of sink into an inner peace that she rarely experienced nowadays. For a second, the apprenticre was assured that this moment would last forever, and she would remain feeling untroubled, when a rather familiar voice commented something unexpectedly.
Facing the recently-named warrior with a puzzled glance, Featherpaw silently listened to his first question. Why would Hillfire be asking if the apprentice's den is still nice? She blinked, confused, at the warrior.
She didn't particularly like the tom, as he'd demonstrated some unkind behaviour that she had witnessed before. But now, he had just utterly bewildered Featherpaw with his odd initial sentence.

"I.." she started to timidly reply, when Hillfire added more. He casually mentioned something about her being among one of the first kits to leave the nursery, but Featherpaw sensed a sort of hidden emotion..

"-yet I've left the apprentice's den before you're even close to having the guts to do so."

It took her a few heartbeats to comprehend what he had just remarked, although her ears had already began to flatten in shock. When her mind finally seemed to proccess the words that had come out of the tom's mouth, Featherpaw seemed to shrink in shame. She flattened herself onto the ground, eying Hillfire looming above her with a clearly hurt expression. Did he truly mean what he had just said? What just happened?
"I-I.. wha-what do y-you... m-mean..?" she sputtered pathetically, her voice pretty much equal to a mouse's frightened squeak.

"I mean, basically everyone in the clan knows about your interaction with Shade," Hillfire began casually, but with a strong hint of scorn weaved into his torn. StarClan, Featherpaw was pathetic. Just because of what little he had just said, she had cowered below him like a mouse beneath his claws. No, that was for the other clans to do. A true RiverClan cat wouldn't act like that. In fact, he wouldn't have to speak to her like this if she was a true RiverClanner. Trying the make her snap, he played further into the part, stretching his head up high and glaring down at her. "How you came back shaking with fear, hardly able to speak a word. I bet that when you were attacked, you were so terrified that you couldn't even defend yourself. Probably froze like a squirrel on the Thunderpath." There he suddenly stiffened, eyes wide with fear, then once again relaxed his muscles, laughing cruelly. "You know, when Shade attacked me, I fought back and nearly won. And when I got back to camp, I was fine. What I'm saying is that I was strong, unlike your display of weakness. And before, I was just saying, how could anyone who couldn't even fight back because they were scared become a warrior? Your father would be so disappointed. Oh wait. He's probably glad you've become a failure to RiverClan, just like him."

Featherpaw tensed, her form rigidly frozen, when Hillfire began to introduce a sensitive topic. Her miserable battle with Shade. The disdain in the warrior's tone was painfully obvious. The silver tabby couldn't force herself to meet his eyes, and she glanced down, her paws shuffling uncomfortably. Hillfire continued, and Featherpaw stared, disstressed, at her paws, feeling mortified. How had he described the exact scenario perfectly? Was her weakness that obvious?
She cautiously looked up, and saw the tom acting mockingly scared. Featherpaw flinched with anguish when he roared with cruel laughter.
Hillfire resumed his talk, comparing the shamed apprentice to himself, and claiming that he was brave and strong. He'd already repeated several times about her weakness and feeble desire to fight back.
Featherpaw had well realized that his words were hurting her more then the agonizing wounds that Shade had created by now, and that was partly because she knew that he was correct. She felt ready to cry when Hillfire stated mean words about her father. Teasing her was one thing, but insulting her father was too much.
"S-S-Spotfur isn't a f-failure!" she cried, agitated, "He's.. he's noble, a-and k-kind, and.. and loyal. W-w-what makes you t-think that he i-isn't..?"
The she-cat winced. Even her attempt to defend her kin was pitiful.

What was Hillfire trying to achieve by tormenting her?

"Noble and kind? Are you really asking me why I don't think that?" Hillfre asked sarcastically, giving her a doubtful look. Oh, StarClan, this was fun. That wasn't his intention, he really just wanted to weed the weaklings out of the clan, but the feeling of power was a nice side effect. Sure, it was a bit mean, but she deserved it! Just looking at Featherpaw's pathetic form was nearly enough to make him vomit. This kind of fear would be pitiful, if he was one to feel pity. No, she either had to toughen up or leave. And his words would make one of those two things happen, he was sure of it. "Have you not heard the stories about how he yelled at Ivystar about being 'too harsh on ThunderClan' when he was an apprentice? Apparently it was in the middle of the clan meeting a lasted a long time, and the clan talked about it for moons. Then there's the fact that he had two mates at once, with one of them being a traitor. Then he lost his leg, not even being able to save Duckpuddle in the process. Oh yes, and he has you for a daughter." Those last few words were uttered in a tone of complete hatred, his icy blue eyes boring holes into hers. "Stop being so pathetic and get up. If you don't like this, why don't you have the guts to stop me? Your obvious weakness and cowardice makes me sick to my stomach, and disgusted to call you my clanmate. You want to be a real RiverClanner? Then act like a brave warrior instead of a terrified little kit. Because if your reduced to this by your clanmate telling you the truth, how will you be able to even stand in a battle against cats who want to kill you? Warriors don't let this happen to them. This is just more proof you aren't prepared at all."

It was like he was slashing her with his words, and slitting her with his powerful glare.
"N-no..." she squeaked, not recalling any stories of her father doing such a thing, "Wh-what's w-w-wrong with feeling e-empathy for a s-struggling clan? A-and.. he h-has two m-mates because.. he's warm and.. a-affectionate."
When Hillfire argued further about Spotfur losing his leg, and not preventing Duckpuddle's murder, Featherpaw almost burst, feeling ruffled and deeply upset. That wasn't his fault! Shade had created traumas and unforgettable moments of fright, and Spotfur wasn't one to blame. He had tried, Featherpaw knew, and that was of the most importance now. Duckpuddle was now in StarClan, a peaceful clan free from troubled living. Right?
"I-it... it wasn' his fault!" she protested shrilly, her eyes pleading for the warrior to stop.
The contemptuous scorn in his last hurtful statement affected the apprentice, and as much as she wanted to prove that he was wrong, she couldn't think of any reasons to counter his opinion. Feeling distraught and humiliated, she had to glance away, not being able to meet his icy eyes.
He was correct. She was pathetic. She was weak. She was cowardly. Featherpaw wanted more than anything to be more assertive and confident, but that could never happen!
I can't get up, her mind whispered miserably, and I don't have the guts to say anything more. I can't give him the satisfaction.
She slowly forced herself to look back up, to look at Hillfire, to not flinch at his strong, truthful words. The tabby was still in a heap on the ground, not wanting nor being able to straighten and compose herself after the warrior's spiteful comments. How could she gain strength? All she wanted was to be left alone.

"R-real w-warriors d-don't st-st-stutter! Now either get up and face me, or leave! You can either prove me wrong and act brave like a real warrior, or go off and cry to your dad! But knowing you, you probably will be too scared to even face him in this state and just cry all alone with no friends because you're too sacred! Now choose!" To call Hillfire's tone angry and aggressive would be an understatement. He was enraged, and his voice suggesting violence. Of course, he wouldn't actually hurtFeatherpaw, he would just scare her a bit. Hopefully would toughen her up more than his words had. By now he was starting to realize that she wasn't going to stand up for herself anytime soon. That was too bad. Maybe she could join ThunderClan, where weaklings were more welcome. At first his insults had been for the purpose of purely testing her, toughening her up to be like a real warrior. But steadily they became more genuinely angry. Just the fact that cats like this lived in RiverClan sickened him. How had their system allowed for this? It was probably Spotfur's influence. That tom was proving to be more trouble than he had expected. Looking at the she-cat cowering beneath him, he let out a low growl. "Forget it. You will never have the courage to stand up for yourself. You are no hope."

She was frozen, glued, stuck, just cowering worthlessly before him, like a quarter-moon old kit being confronted by the most malevolent rogue. Featherpaw bit her mouth shut, intent on not uttering another sentence. It was certain she wouId stutter again, and she, without a doubt, didn't want to give Hillfire another reason to taunt her. By now, her eyes had begun to water, and her throat was starting to choke, and block up. It was like she couldn't, even if she would, say anymore in her defense. What was the point?
The fury in Hillfire's tone was intolerable, and although it could have sounded mouse-brained to anyone else, Featherpaw was terrified he would physically do damage as well. Why couldn't she be more assertive? Why couldn't she be more confident, especially in situations like this? The tom was absolutely right, she didn't have the strength to do anything the benefit her, or her clanmates.
Featherpaw finally rose shakily to her feet, still trembling. There was no way she'd stand up to Hillfire, and she wasn't going run off to burden Spotfur with her problems. No, all she needed was space and silence. Hiccuping pathetically, vision begining to fog up, she shouldered past the warrior. Determined not to stutter, she whispered, mortifyed, "I.. h-have.. to go.."
It was only until she had raced a fair distance from him that she began to let out scared sobs. Her breathing had become shallow as she wailed quietly, her speed beginning to slow as she left camp.
She needed to be alone.


ooc: i know cat's can't cry (for emotional reasons) in real life, but this is warriors. xd
and also i totally haven't begun planning a whole animatic/pmv thing for this plot