New leaf brings new shadows (closed)

Cloudy skies were less grim without the bite of frost. The growing lack of snow was a profound relief to Oakstar as he padded alongside his clanmate. On a whim, he had chosen for Rainstrike to go on patrol with him. An effort to appease wary clanmates. He couldn’t blame them. The life lost to the snake had been a very unfortunate accident, and it had shown with distinct and alarming clarity that it wasn’t impossible to be hurt within the clan walls. That something, could always get in.

He had overseen the construction of more brambles being woven into the lower layers of the barrier. It was the only thing they could do. Snakes were a natural prey and predator of the forest, and they slithered where they pleased… and came out of their dens in the warm weather. Oakstar glanced at the shadow of a slim tree. It had looked like a snake for a moment. He shook his head, then sat down. All of this seemed too coincidental. Was it his fault? Was he thinking about all of this too hard?

The older tom looked over at the young warrior with him. Rainstrike was a good cat, one of his own kin, and undoubtedly a strong and loyal warrior. Lately however… he frowned. She seemed… distant. He tilted his head, then stood and padded to his grand kit. He had seen her leave during the warning, and his confession. It hurt, the idea that perhaps she would reject him. Not every cat in Thunderclan was bound to like the fact that their own leader was part Shadowclan… but it had never mattered before.
"Rainstrike… does my heritage bother you?" He asked, breaking the silence as he turned his amber eyes to her own.

The warming forest was a welcome sight after moons of snow and bitter cold. Newleaf had barely sunk its claws into the territories, yet already the forest teemed with life, birds and mice and squirrels flitting about in search of food and mates. Rainstrike had been chosen to go on patrol - with Oakstar - and more and more she wished it'd been a hunting patrol instead. Not, specifically, so she could hunt, but more to disrupt the uncomfortable silence that had followed her and the leader since they left camp.

One could argue that silence was a good thing during a patrol... that a low noise profile made it easier to sneak up on possible trespassers. But this silence only served to give the young warrior ample time to think, and to plan... but since her meeting with StarClan, Rainstrike knew that planning any further on her own was impossible.

Not with StarClan on her heels, anyway.

At some point, Oakstar stalled, falling back on to his haunches and posing a question to her. She paused, too, broad shoulders rolling as she turned to face him with pale, serious eyes. "My opinion doesn't matter," she stated bluntly. "StarClan's displeasure has been made clear to all. They are willing to let the entirety of ThunderClan suffer for it."

Oakstar frowned. She wasn’t wrong. StarClan had made it quite clear that they were angry with the clans. Nerves rose from the recollection that Thornstar and Torrentstar both had their lives stripped away, but they had also blatantly broken the code… continued to. He blinked slowly, then looked towards a bush that was blossoming with bright pink buds that would soon become beautiful flowers.
"StarClan… can’t really understand. They are one clan in the skies, without borders or the needs we do. The code is important. I firmly believe that, but I also believe exceptions can be made for the right reasons." He turned back towards Rainstrike.

She reminded him so strongly of Mistwalker it hurt sometimes. His son hadn’t fully believed in StarClan. Had made it perfectly clear, but his daughter seemed a little different. She was taking their warning seriously… and it concerned him. How long before her coat turned white with it?
"The decisions made in the past are done. Even StarClan cannot undo them… however..." He paused, ear flicking uneasily. "I’ll be sure to mind their warning words more carefully in the future."

For the longest while after Oakstar finished speaking, Rainstrike was silent. She stared at him, a multitude of emotions flashing within the depths of her icy gaze, but at the forefront, it was anger. She was angry. At Oakstar, at StarClan, at the disgusting, worthless, fox-hearted badger that had stolen her father from her. Maybe, if ThunderClan had been pure, if her own blood, and Mistwalker's, had been pure, StarClan may have stepped in to save him. Maybe then he wouldn't have left her.

Rainstrike blinked, and for a moment, Oakstar was gone. In his place stood that black-and-white shape, grinning, taunting her with those beady eyes and vicious teeth. Her claws slid into the dirt.

Beware the power of the stars. Act in violence, and you will not receive my pity.

The young warrior swallowed hard, shaking her head to clear her vision, and her grandfather returned to the spot where the badger had just been. Her forelegs trembled, and it took actual effort to remain standing, but Rainstrike sucked in a breath, rising and turning away from him. "You don't get it," she said, voice harsh and unforgiving despite an involuntary quiver. "The decisions made in the past are what matter. They're the only thing that matter. And ThunderClan - no, all the clans, are being punished because of them."

She shifted her weight from one side to the other, nearly swaying in place, and then let her hind end fall into an ungraceful sit. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with the leader. "Impurities blossom like algae in a riverbed. May these spores infect every nest lined with immorality, in every camp, in every den, until their confession is suitable to the stars."

There it was. She'd done her part... or, at least, the first part. She didn't know what StarClan had in store for her, or for anyone else, but she had delivered the warning. And what came next would be up to him.

Oakstar frowned in concern as his granddaughter visibly swayed and shook on her paws. He stepped forward to help her, but she spoke clearly. His muzzle grimaced in frustration as he tried to think of what to say… when she turned around and sat up. The sway to her haunches felt almost unnatural to look at as she spoke more words. Ones that made his swallow nervously, for they didn’t sound like something Rainstrike would say… but Starclan.

He shook the idea from his head, and padded close behind her.
"The decisions can not be changed. It would not be fair to any cat involved. It’d break up families, and cause resentment and anger inside the clans themselves. Those made in the past must be kept, if we are to bring peace to the clans." He paused, then meowed at Rainstrike with certainty.

"If we took back all the old decisions, there would be only chaos left. Starclan has my decision known to them already, and it is the safest and most reasonable one." his gaze lowered with sadness. "If I stayed in Shadowclan… I would have been as much as a stranger as Ström. I know I’ve done right and good for Thunderclan. Your existence is proof enough of that. For if I never became a part of Thunderclan, then your father wouldn’t have been born. Nor you." He looked up at Rainstrike. Brow furrowed in thought. "Let us hunt now, Rainstrike. We dare not return to camp empty pawed."

Rainstrike snorted contemptuously at Oakstar's reply, shaking her head. She'd almost counted on him saying something along those lines, but still the words were like blows. Even with StarClan's warning ringing in his ears, all the leader cared about was justifying his actions. He was right, of course. Had he stayed in ShadowClan, Mistwalker never would have been born. She'd have never been born. Even to herself, she couldn't help but think that that alone should have been enough to sway her stance, even if just a little, but, somehow... it didn't.

Would she have preferred never being born, to being where she was right now? That was a question she couldn't answer, because despite everything, Rainstrike very much enjoyed being alive. But the hurt and the anger and the pain she felt because of that, because of Oakstar's decisions, was too fierce to allow him leeway even in the face of such absolute logic.

She swallowed hard, drawing another shuddering breath, and then, "Yes. We dare not."

With that, she turned away from him, preparing to spend the remainder of this patrol in silence.