First True Impressions {Closed}

It had been five sunrises since Pricklebush's death. In all honesty, Hailpaw had not bothered to keep count. While she had an awareness that time was passing, her mind seemed shrouded in a haze that caused days and nights to blur into one never-ending dream. If it truly was a dream, it was a nightmare. But Hailpaw knew the truth; what she was experiencing was worse than a nightmare, because it was reality. Now, when she opened her eyes in the morning, she had to contend with the realization that another of her siblings had left. There was one more wound in her heart, one more gaping absence in her life. She coped with the loss the only way she knew how to―through work. When Beepaw had drowned, when Ridgelight had been exiled, Hailpaw had thrown herself into her duties in an attempt to distract herself. She did the same thing now, going on patrol after patrol at a feverish pace. She changed out the moss in the Nursery without a word of protest, and then she voluntarily moved on to the Elder's Den. Whenever her paws were still, it was her mind that would drift. The bright, happy days of seven kits frolicking outside the Nursery seemed so long ago now. Two were dead along with their mother, and one had been exiled. The others... Their bonds were no longer what they had been in the old days. How many moons had it been since Hailpaw had last had a proper conversation with Streampaw or Gladepaw? The memories were too painful to dwell on. What hurt Hailpaw most of all, however, was that she had lost the first cat who had welcomed her back after she had fled ThunderClan. If it were not for Pricklebush, would she still be a rogue, living and dying alone? Just by accepting Hailpaw again, the late medicine cat had done so much for her. Her heart had been so full of appreciation to him―it still was―but before she had found a way to express the emotions in words, he had left. Hailpaw moved mechanically now, like a half-dead cat, driven on only by past regrets and promises. Pricklebush would never witness her warrior ceremony, although he had sworn that he would.

That morning, too, Hailpaw half-rolled and half-flopped out of her nest. Patrol. Right. The thoughts echoed dully in her head―commands that she had programmed herself to follow by now. As she stepped out of the den, the overgrown apprentice did not bother to shake the moss scraps from her pelt. Her thick white fur was in disarray, but she could hardly care any less. What was the point? Looking nice would fill no bellies, would mark no borders, would heal no hearts. Fierce yellow eyes glared forth from her sullen features. If one peered closely enough, he might have glimpsed the madness in their depths. She was grieving―grieving for the loss of family, for the loss of ignorant bliss.

Leaden paws carried Hailpaw right to the camp exit. There, her gaze fell upon the only other cat that seemed ready to leave. More specifically, her gaze fell upon his oversized ears. "What? Just you?" There was no resentment in her voice, only a weary sort of confirmation. Houndheart, Beartooth and Ridgelight's son―in other words, her nephew. Despite knowing of their relationship, she had never truly spoken to the tom before. It seemed this would be their first chance at true conversation.

What? Just you?

Houndheart had arrived for the patrol just as assigned. Now, as Beartooth droned on with the patrol assignments, he listened just enough to tuck away the knowledge and then left the deputy's presence. No more than necessary. It was simply a matter of listening to his deputy, as much as he despised that gruff voice. Beartooth had never been his father, and he was the furthest thing from it now. To consider the elder tom to be anything more than a clanmate would to be doing a disservice to himself. It was for this reason, the distance between father and son, that he knew little of his relationship to Hailpaw. The she-cat, much like the late Pricklebush, had spent a good amount of time with Riverclan. Although, recently she had returned and begun to do her duties like any other good apprentice. Because of her mishaps with the neighboring clan, it appeared that despite being much older, the white-pelted cat still bore an apprentice title.

"Just me? I'll have you know that I can catch enough prey for two cats. There's a reason I earned my warrior title." He flashed her an indignant smirk before stepping to lead the way out of camp, "Now don't dawdle. There's plenty you can learned from me and so little time for me to show you." The slender tom slid through the camp entrance before awaiting a response. He'd spent so little time around Hailpaw he knew little of her personality, or of the fact that should could probably easily claws his stuck-up ears off. Without dwelling too much on it, Houndheart had already begun to scent the forest for hints of where the prey might be before deciding which path to take.