Cinder Song {closed}

It was late, the sky having turned its dark side to ThunderClan, smoke mimicking clouds on the horizon. SkyClan was crowfood. If the ashes from the fire could reach ThunderClan's territory, Pinepaw didn't want to imagine what became of their neighbors, far closer to the wildfire than themselves. In fact, the tom's head was so filled with thoughts, that he departed camp in the night, imagining that a walk would distill such things. Musing over "what-ifs" and "had-beens" never solved anything. Pinepaw was a doer, not a thinker. His life was going to be perfect, and he never doubted it for a second. Harefoot had become an elder, and the tom was now an apprentice under Dustcloud's eye. It felt freeing in a way, not to have his own father staring over his shoulder, observing every move he made. Is this what it was like to be a warrior? Either way, it gave Pinepaw much more privilege than he'd ever experienced before. And now, his night-walk was less to clear his head than to flaunt his new freedom. The apprentice walked with his chest puffed out, ears high and tail sweeping from side to side. This was his territory, and as an older apprentice, his ego only grew.

The air was thick and humid, it stung his eyes and clouded his lungs. Smoke billowed over the pitch-black horizon, bringing scents of charcoaled wood and cinders. Pinepaw thought of Foxfire, the tom who'd lost his clan in the fire. Where had SkyClan gone? Thoughts of the outliers were what founded Pinepaw's dreams. He wanted to be different than the average cat. He wanted to stand out, to be the runner like Foxfire, the challenger like Rainstrike, and perhaps even the victim, like Jaydream. His life would sing, sing like fires that crackled in the trees. It was only a matter now of how far he was willing to go to make such a thing happen.

Pinepaw's muscles rippled beneath his shoulders, bunching with every bound as he began to tear through the forest, whipping through the undergrowth. His nose bunched up and his eyes watered, ducking under ferns and brambles. Why hadn't it happened yet? Why wasn't he great? The foliage became a blur as Pinepaw ran, he wished it was just as easy to find fame as well. It was only the flash of Rainstrike's face that stopped his paws. Like a nightmare, her half-pelt gazed at him from the trees, the ghost of his dreams. Her one blue eye watched him, and Pinepaw dared stop his pursuit of nothingness, coming around to face her. The bracken hung over them like small trees, encasing their fateful encounter. Pinepaw panted hard, mostly from exhaustion, but also from the shock that rippled through his body. She was terrifying, and it intrigued him. "You."

The moon following Jaydream's murder had been uneventful for Rainstrike. ThunderClan was on edge now, as they rightfully should have been, and even though she'd had more than one opportunity to attack again, she'd yet to find any of the cats she really wanted alone, and the former warrior was reluctant to waste her efforts on someone less worthy. Jaydream had been a warning, a convenient kill to get her message across to ThunderClan: you should have killed me when you had the chance.

And they should have, because even though she'd embraced her new life as a rogue, her new role as the warning that queens told their misbehaving kits, Rainstrike was still the ghost that haunted the ThunderClan forests.

Tonight was no different, and in hunting the influx of prey that had fled SkyClan's burned territory on to her former clan's, Rainstrike had spent the last hour hunting at her leisure, taking her time. She was slower than usual right now, annoyingly so, and hunting with only one eye had taken a while for her to learn, but she was still proficient enough to keep her belly full. The pointed tabby she-cat was stretched against the trunk of a tree, the remains of an unfortunate mouse beside her, when the sound of pawsteps bolting through the brush drew her attention, and the fresh scent of ThunderClan hit her nose.

Curiosity piqued, she rose, the tightness in her belly causing her to grimace in discomfort, and followed the noise. He was easy to track, seemingly fearless in his pursuit of... well, whatever he was doing. Rainstrike dipped into the trees on his left, put on a burst of speed, and overtook him, circling back around until she was just beside the path, crouched in the dry foliage. The tom sped towards her, and Rainstrike flicked her tail thoughtfully. Pinepaw was not on her list - in fact, if she remembered correctly, he'd voted for her to stay.

Stepping out further into his path, where she'd easily be seen, Rainstrike watched the realization pass over his face as he darted past, and smirked to herself when he slowed to circle back around, greeting her with a single word that held neither fear or hostility.

"You know it's a terrible idea to be out here alone, at night, right?" she told him, twisting her neck to groom her chest. "Did you not see what I did to the last cat I caught alone out here? Do you think yourself brave, or are you just stupid?" Though her words were an insult, Rainstrike's voice was colored by amusement.

There was a tinge of amusement in Rainstrike's voice as she spoke, noting how dangerous it was to be out at night. Pinepaw's eyes narrowed at the implications of her statement, his suspicions confirmed as the she-cat revealed she'd been Jaydream's murderer. For some reason, however, the statement didn't ruffle his fur. Instead, Pinepaw only stalked closer, instilled with some ethereal bravery for such an interesting occasion. Rainstrike asked if Pinepaw was brave, to which he opened his maw to agree, but she shut him down quickly to ask if he was also stupid. At this, the tom frowned and sat in the grass, wanting to root the cat to the spot, hoping to get some answers out of her.

Bracken cut the moonbeams into slits, casting shadow stripes over the duo's faces. The air seemed thicker than it had before, but Pinepaw was right where he needed to be, still contemplating the best answer to the outcast's question. "I'm sure I'll hold up better than Jaydream did." He mewed carefully, head cocked to one side. There was a glint in Pinepaw's eye as it meant Rainstrike's. The cat before him now was infamous throughout ThunderClan. There wasn't a tree-dwelling soul that didn't know her name. All it took was her one blue eye to stop him in his tracks. If a glance could do that, what were Rainstrike's more purposeful efforts capable of?

"I'm not a mousebrain, if that's what you mean. But I'm not some coward, either. If I want to go on a forest walk, then that's what I'll do. You wouldn't dare kill me would you?" Pinepaw's voice was devoid of fear as his words cut through the thick tension of the situation. Deep down, the tom knew a simple cat would drag the outcast back to camp, but that wouldn't solve anything. It was clear Rainstrike was a different breed of soul entirely. Instead, Pinepaw opted to use this rare opportunity to carefully pry the she-cat with questions. His curiosity, combined with his recent volatile state, proved dangerous.

A careful look emerged in Pinepaw's green eyes as he dared to shuffle closer to the she-cat, gazing into her scarred half-face. What was it like? To ravage the code? It certainly made a name for Rainstrike, that was certain, but was it worth it? "You'll go down in history, Rain." Pinepaw whispered with intimacy, not the romantic kind - but the kind shared between two strangers who carried some fragile secret in the balance of their gazes. "I... I want that too."

There was a dangerous silence as Rainstrike considered Pinepaw's words, her eye a cold, glittering stone in the moonlight. Would she kill him? A vision in her mind's eye... the russet apprentice's blood spilling into the dirt at her paws... the life leaving his eyes the way it had left Jaydream's when she sank her teeth into his neck... Ferretnose wailing over his cold body. It was a tempting option. One that would strike back at her former mentor, revenge for the older warrior's actions the night of Rainstrike's exile.

For a long, tense moment, the two cats surveyed each other in the stillness of the Greenleaf night... nothing made a sound, and nothing moved except for Rainstrike's claws sinking into the ground... but then a wayward breeze sent a a cascade of dry leaves skittering across the ground, and the moment was lost.  

Rainstrike blinked, snorting derisively at the tom as she sheathed her claws and brought a hind leg up to scratch at an itch behind her ear. "I could kill you as easily as a kit kills a beetle," she told him in a serious whisper. Truth be told, the apprentice intrigued her as much as she apparently did him. They'd hardly spoken before her trial, and no doubt he'd been poisoned against her by his family, yet he'd chosen to side against them, to offer her another chance.

"But I won't." She stood, walking in a half-circle around him. "Unlike the majority of ThunderClan, you've got a good head on your shoulders, Pinepaw. I see the potential for renown... for respect, and even... fear. Perhaps you can succeed where I failed - perhaps you can lead ThunderClan into the future..." she stared off into the darkness with Pinepaw at her back, her ear twisted back to listen. But then Rainstrike shook her head with a half-exasperated chuckle. "Nevermind... No... I could never trust an apprentice with something like that."

She stilled for another moment, then turned to look over her shoulder. "Go home, Pinepaw."

And then she waited.

The tom frowned as Rainstrike suggested how easy it would be to kill him. He doubted such a statement, and shrugged it off like a raindrop. A sharp wind kicked up and cut through the glen, sending flurries of dried leaves along with it. The she-cat redacted her previous statement, noting that she wouldn't end the tom's life, instead, she suggested something different. Pinepaw's green eyes narrowed as the outcast hinted at a future of respect for the apprentice, a future of renown. But it was the last word that stabbed Pinepaw in the heart. Fear.

Rainstrike wielded fear, and she wielded it well. There wasn't a kit in the nursery who didn't know her name. It certainly had made her life into one of perfection. The perfect character arc, featuring betrayal, sadness, and death. It was a brilliant, sinister story that the elders would tell for moons. Pinepaw wished for his life to shine in the same way, to burn holes in the mundane ways of ThunderClan. But could he do that without shattering the code? Was it necessary to draw blood as Rainstrike did?

His musings were cut off as the she-cat spoke. "Nevermind..." She crooned, glancing towards the tom over her shoulder. It was his status that limited him. If Pinepaw had been a warrior then perhaps... No. He couldn't be like Rainstrike. Pinepaw wished for the perfect life, the perfect story, but he wouldn't wish to tear his family apart in the process. Rainstrike began to turn away, which sent the tom to his paws in a flurry. "I'm not going home." He growled. "Not yet." The apprentice rounded to face Rainstrike, blocking her escape path in a non-threatening way. His green eyes searched hers, hoping to find solace there. Instead he took a more direct approach, gently bringing his nose to the scarred side of her face.

His breath billowed on the former warrior's cheek as he touched his muzzle to her missing eye. In a clan-setting, such a gesture would signify trust, or great friendship. Now Pinepaw wished to simulate it all in a matter of seconds. He wanted to pry open the outcast, to see how she had achieved fame. "Was it worth it?" Pinepaw asked as he pulled away, eyes wide. "All the bloodshed, just for a bit of recognition? Or was that not your reasoning?"

Pinepaw's refusal to leave, his rapid movement towards her, made Rainstrike stiffen, the fur on her neck spiking into messy triangles. He was going to attack her, after knowing what she was capable of? What an absolute fool. She started to snarl, but the noise never made it out of her mouth, because Pinepaw hadn't lost his mind and decided to attack her. What he'd done was far more bewildering.

Her body didn't relax a bit as he touched her scarred face, but she also didn't flinch away. She just froze, willing her heartbeat to slow, to quell the fight instinct that had surged through her veins. Rainstrike's eyes narrowed, and she dropped her shoulder, shoving him away, though not nearly as roughly as she could have. The rogue turned away, forcing her fur to lie flat. She was confused, and that wasn't a feeling that she enjoyed. What did this cat want? Clearly she couldn't manipulate him into taking her place in ThunderClan, to finish what she'd started, but neither could she run him off. It was absolutely mystifying.

Her tail flicked to curl around her paws, and Rainstrike let out a breath she'd been involuntarily holding, Pinepaw's question making her brows draw together uneasily. "Recognition? No. It wasn't about that. Not at first. There was a time before you were born where the entirety of the forest, all of the clans, were in danger. StarClan punished us for that, killed many cats. I chose the path I believed to be right, the path that would see ThunderClan through the harsh times and save as many cats as possible. But the others were blind, they disagreed, and they paid for it dearly before they finally won - when StarClan, those master manipulators in the sky, changed their mind. But they never forgot that I stood separately. You witnessed that with your own two eyes."

Rainstrike shook her head, nostrils flaring in undisguised anger. "If recognition is what you want, Pinepaw, you don't have to be evil, or wrong. You don't have to kill, like I did." She looked over her shoulder, for the first time showing something more than indifference in her icy stare. "You just have to be different."

"You just have to be different..." Pinepaw blinked at this, craving whatever it was that clung to Rainstrike's tone. There was a crack in her usual icy façade, and the tom desperately wanted in. Rainstrike was not a bad cat, she'd simply chosen what she imagined to be right. Yet still, she'd been punished for her actions. Pinepaw opened his maw to protest this, to fight for the mysterious cat before him, but the better tom in him shut it. This was why he strived for perfection. Because the forest was unforgiving. It seemed profound to think of such a thing, if Pinepaw ever deviated from the path of a good warrior, he'd be outcast as Rainstrike was. There was little room to stand out, to be different as the she-cat suggested.

It made the apprentice dig his claws into the earth, suddenly revealing to himself why he hadn't achieved a life worthy of stories yet. It was because there was no room. The forest didn't need heroes, instead, it punished those who spoke out, who acted. Rainstrike had been a victim of said principle, and while Pinepaw didn't agree with her actions, it was not his place to judge them. The mediocrity of his surroundings frustrated him greatly, and he padded to the she-cat's side, head pointing towards the sky, where a few twinkles of silverpelt shined from above the clouds.

"Do you see that?" Pinepaw whispered, russet pelt glowing in the soft moonlight. As the misty sky shifted, a vast stretch of stars shone from up above, glimmering with more beauty than all the forest. Pinks and blues and silvers, dancing among the black of night. It was perfect, a sight so wonderful that it challenged any who gazed upon it. "My life, my life has got to be like that." He gestured to silverpelt with his tail, claiming the stars as his own, daring himself to reach their magnificence. Pinepaw's gaze fell eventually, after what felt like moons, settling upon Rainstrike's face.

There was a long pause as he stared at her, wanting to apologize for all that had happened. She had reached for the stars as well, but fell short, and was cast out into the wilderness. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right. "I'll be great for the both of us, Rain. This forest... you don't deserve what it did to you..." Pinepaw wanted to say more, glancing back over his shoulder as he turned away, eyes solemn. It felt as if he rested on the edge of a great discovery, as if the ages were changing. And perhaps, the turning of time would welcome those different as well.

The frustration that rolled off of Pinepaw's form was almost palpable, and Rainstrike watched with a curious blue eye as he sank his claws into the earth and then moved to her side, tossing his head back to stare into the sky. The she-cat followed his gaze, but the stars were unremarkable in her eyes. For Rainstrike, the glittering Silverpelt held nothing but lies and betrayal and empty promises... could-haves and should-haves that didn't matter anymore.

But her companion seemed to sense something there, something that she didn't and never could. For a moment, she envied him, and as he finally dropped his gaze to make his grand declaration, that envy turned to pity. Rainstrike got to her paws as the apprentice turned away, her tail flicking to brush across his haunches. "Perhaps we'll see," was all she said. And then the she-cat turned away, her pawsteps heavy and her gait awkward. She wouldn't begrudge Pinepaw for his aspirations. After all, she had been like him, once. Itching to change, to better, the clan that she called home. If fate was as cruel to him as it had been to her, perhaps the future would bring her yet another ally. For now, though, she had things to do... plans to make that would ensure the destruction of ThunderClan and the traitors she'd once considered family.