Moor to See {closed}

These cats had worst timing than the Righteous Few, it seemed.

Downtuft had only just started to feel comfortable around his apprentices when the Asylum had taken over. It was hard enough to talk to them without strangers watching his every movement. As a kit, he'd been born the moon they attacked WindClan, and had no memories of it. He'd grown up on the tales, seen Crowspirit's scars, helped his father and brother patch up dens, watched the queens and warrior freeze at any unfamiliar scent. He'd watched and he'd understood; these cats were bad.

Now they were back. When they'd haunted WindClan before they'd claimed two of Finchstar's lives and that of an apprentice. They seemed to be out for the blood of those who'd been living during the first attack. Dappleshine, Raventail, Goldengale. Downtuft found himself watching Spotlake and Crowspirit with growing anxiety. They'd nearly died the first time. They'd both been apprentices. Grousefrost had lost his hearing because of those cats, and Shyfawn had lost some of her spirit. Foxspirit had almost lost Spotlake, the only cat she'd had left at the time.

Think Down, think. He cursed himself. Concentrate, who else had been alive. Zinnia had joined WindClan to help them fight the beast cats, Deerhawk and Briarthorn, too. Finchstar, Barleytuft, Clovertwist, Elmskip, Patrick, Aspenheart, Graybriar. Most of the cats who'd been alive at the time were dead now, he thought dryly, half thankful. At least WindClan wouldn't have to bury them as well.

It was painfully obvious of the pain floating in the camp, and Downtuft winced as he glanced at the medicine den. No sight of Softbreeze. She'd hadn't been the same since Dappleshine had died that night. The ginger tom's claws pierced deep into the soil, and an angry glint flashed in his eyes. Theron. It was Theron's fault, not yours, Softy. I wish you could see that. It pained him oh so much to see her like this, but he knew he could do nothing. She was too much like her mother; her heart soared higher than any other's and when she crashed, it was hard to repair the wings. Almost as much as he'd watched Softbreeze and the older cats who lived through the first nightmare, he'd found himself watching the apprentices.

Flashpaw. Goldengale's apprentice. Former now, he thought sourly. Fogpaw, Raventail and Dappleshine's adopted daughter. Orphaned twice now. This was the second set of parents she'd have to say goodbye to. Downtuft couldn't imagine that pain, parting with Barleytuft and Graybriar had been hard enough. Flurrypaw was probably scared stiff. Lilacpaw. Wildflower's first and only apprentice before her death. She was Olivestar and Zinnia's daughter. Way too nice. Violetpaw. One of his apprentices, and far too drifty and friendly for his liking with these rogues around. He hoped her feather would keep her safe. Daypaw, his other apprentice. She... Was interesting. It seemed her personality changed to fit the scene. Adaptable, but unable to handle stress and grief. She was too trusting.

He'd need to see where her head was at. She was too unpredictable. He didn't like that. He knew she was sympathetic. Prisoners couldn't be sympathetic to their captors; it would be hard to overthrow them at that point. He knew she was also scared. That was bad. She'd have to hide that. Cats like these fed and manipulated fear for their own twisted desires. Daypaw was good at masking. Let's see just how good she was at lying. Scared cats made irrational decisions. He couldn't have her get hurt. That would be bad. Softbreeze wasn't in her right mind, and if Daypaw got seriously hurt, she might freeze up.

This time, Galestar wouldn't be there to snap sense into her.

Looking up, Downtuft found one of the many cats who'd preoccupied his thoughts. Daypaw. Good, he'd needed to talk to her. Shifting to stand a bit so he was easier to spot, Downtuft's voice projected from the nursery. He'd brought a rabbit with him for a reason. He was just waiting for someone to talk to. "Hey, Daypaw!" The Warrior called, angling his voice towards her. "Come share a rabbit with me."

His voice made it sound like an innocent suggestion, but his eyes told a different story. When sharp green eyes met her softer ones, he told her with unspoken words this wasn't a suggestion. This was a command.

For any cat that was looking at Daypaw from the outside, it would be difficult to tell what was on the she-cat’s mind nowadays. The ongoing moon had been incomparably exhausting. In front of the Asylum cats, she presented herself as confident and poised. She didn’t speak to them unless spoken to, and she minded her own business. They didn’t know much about her outside of what she purposefully wanted them to know, and that pleased her. However, in front of her Clanmates, the cats that had known her ever since she was a fresh scrap in the nursery, were fully aware of how terrified she was. She wasn’t afraid to let her guard down around them. She had to be happy and entertaining in front of the kits, mature in front of the warriors, and comforting in front of Softbreeze. Maintaining a multitude of contrasting personalities tired her out, and at the end of the day, all she had the strength to do was collapse into her nest and fall asleep after thinking for a long time about having to be in the presence of the Asylum cats the next day. Some nights, it drove her to tears. Whenever she made eye contact with one of the intruders, the day of the invasion replayed in their pupils at the speed of light, and it pained Daypaw to remember.

It pained her to think about the possibility of another WindClan cat losing their life. It pained her to think about the fact that the next dead cat could be her. It pained her to think about the cats living in the other Clans that could be suffering and mourning just as much as her own. It was all pain for the brain, and there was no cure.

It was starting to become difficult to believe that this would ever go away. While these circumstances weren’t exactly something that Daypaw wanted to get used to, she figured that it had to be done sooner or later. In a hopeless future, the Asylum cats would still occupy the Clans, their kin would be the next generation to keep the forest under their paw, and Clan cats would still be fearing for the lives of themselves and their loved ones. Her jaw clenched whenever she thought about it. It would be a relief if, one day, she woke up and realized that this was all one sick, long, exhausting nightmare. Just like most cats, the apprentice had never enjoyed nightmares, but she would’ve preferred if this all ended up being a dark fantasy. Her heart always sank whenever she realized that this was the harsh reality.

No matter how pessimistic she felt at times, there were still plenty of things to be grateful for. Her parents were alive and well, Softbreeze was alive... she was in a bad state of mind, but at least she was safe. Downtuft and Shyfawn were still breathing, too. She had been meaning to speak to Downtuft all this time. She had no idea if the tom would end up being honest with her, but she wanted to know if he was alright. Goldengale was his sister, and Daypaw knew that she would be absolutely devastated if she had lost a littermate to the claws of the Asylum. Unfortunately, she had avoided approaching her mentor about it up until now. Talking about it wasn’t the problem, starting the conversation was. She wasn’t the greatest at being an initiator.

Today, Daypaw had persevered through the stares of the Asylum cats and caught as much prey as she could. She had deposited her catches into the fresh-kill pile the moment she returned back to camp, and she had expected to return back to her nest to get some rest. Downtuft’s voice threw that plan out of the nest. She glanced over at him from where she was standing beside the newly-stocked fresh-kill pile before padding over to speak with him. In all honesty, this would be a good opportunity to finally get to speak to him. His eyes seemed to suggest that this was more than a simple greeting between mentor and apprentice, but Daypaw couldn’t tell what exactly he wanted.

“Hi, Downtuft,” She began, softly, “This is actually convenient... I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
She glanced down at the rabbit, shuffling her paws on the ground in front of her.
“I’m sorry about Goldengale, and I’m sorry I didn’t get to say that sooner. Have you been okay? I’m worried about you and Softbreeze.”
She had no idea how else to approach this topic. It was practically like walking on thin ice, and the last thing that Daypaw wanted to do was fall through into the cold water. Knowing that her mentor was alright would bring her a bit of consolation, too. The wellbeing of others determined the wellbeing of herself.

"Don't worry about me, 'paw. I'll be fine. What concerns me is you." Downtuft responded, immediately directing the conversation towards her. With a threat looming above them, it seemed Downtuft had finally regained the confidence he lacked when speaking to his apprentices. "I can't read your head like I can Violetpaw. She's predictable; I know what she'll do before she does it. I can't do that with you; you change. And if I'm being honest, as your mentor, I'm impressed, I don't know how you do it, but I'm also concerned. You're too good at masking. I can't tell what really affects you. I know you're scared but other than that I can't figure you out. It's like a test. I have to read the surroundings and other cats around you to even get an estimate of how you're going to react."

"I'm worried about you, kid. You can't cover up everything, you know? I'm proud of you, too. Not many cats can stay strong in front of their enemies. But you can't always go by everyone else. Sometimes you need to be yourself. My mother, Graybriar, used to tell me that it's okay to cry sometimes. I still need to work on that. How are you doing, Daypaw? And I mean how you're really doing, don't tell me what I want to hear." Downtuft meant every word he said, even if he didn't show it often. Offering her a soft smile, a rare treasure, he stepped closer to her, placing a paw across her shoulders. "I'm here for you, you don't have to hide your emotions from me, kittenfluff."

The nickname was a reminder of their first meeting, and his eyes twinkled as he recalled the clumsiness his apprentice had as a kit. As hard as it was to admit, Downtuft was very fond of his apprentices, it seemed.

Daypaw's ears flattened against her head. She hadn't come over here to talk about how she was feeling, she had wanted to know about Downtuft. What she had been afraid of had been right - her mentor wasn't going to open up to her anytime soon. That display of vulnerability that he had shown back during the Asylum's invasion was unlikely to ever come back. All she wanted to know was whether or not her Clanmates were okay, and she had spent nights convincing herself that she was fine as long as they were okay, but was she really? Was she really okay? She had spent so much time wondering about others and worrying about the Clan as a whole and it had caused her to practically disregard her own wellbeing. Downtuft's words confused her slightly. What had he referred to it as? Masking? It was true that she attempted to "fix" herself to fit in with the situation at hand or the cats that she was around. She didn't consider it to be a toxic trait, and in fact she saw it as always good. Most cats that were around for only a few heartbeats could tell that she was afraid of practically anything, so why would she purposefully let that weakness show?

At the end of the day, though, it wasn't about weaknesses or strengths or battle or anything of that sort. Deep in her heart, Daypaw just wanted cats to like her. She wanted their validation. She wanted to know that she wasn't hated or annoying or bothersome. The true reason why she switched up so quickly depending on who she was around was because, out of all the little things that she was afraid of, her biggest fear was being hated. She didn't care about how she saw herself, she only cared about how others saw her. The apprentice knew how awful that was, but she couldn't stop herself. It was practically engrained in her now.

"Kittenfluff."
That was what Downtuft had called Daypaw, called Daykit at the time, when they had first met each other. She couldn't help but let a small smile appear on her muzzle at that remark. It felt nice to know that there was at least one cat that was genuinely there for her throughout everything that was happening. There was no need to hide anything. How was she really doing? That was a complicated question, but she decided to make an attempt to answer.

"I'm terrified," She breathed out, her smile disappearing quicker than it had appeared, "that's the only word I can use to describe how I feel right now. I look at those Asylum cats... and I see killers, I see the dead body of Goldengale, I see Softbreeze in tears, it hasn't left my head since the day happened. I know I'm a scaredy-cat, nobody has to tell me that for me to know it, but I've never felt this scared in my whole life."
She took a moment to scan the camp, looking at the familiar faces that she knew and the unfamiliar faces that she didn't want to know.
"I shouldn't feel unsafe in my own camp..." She felt tears beginning to gather in her eyes as she spoke up again, "...but I'm just really tired. It's exhausting having to put on different facades for everyone while being scared beneath it all. I don't know what to do. I know I sound helpless, I'm sorry, but it's hard to sound rational when I'm scared out of my mind all of the time. I'm a mess, really."

"You're right," he whispered, "It's not. You should feel safe enough to turn your back to every cat and not worry you'll get your pelt clawed off. You shouldn't be afraid to wake up each morning to another dead warrior. If I could change it, I would. For you, for Softbreeze, for Violetpaw, for WindClan. But I can't." His voice broke, along with his heart. The tears in Daypaw's eyes were likes thorns pressed against his heart, and he swiftly wrapped his tail around her.

"You don't have to be everything for everyone, 'paw. I see it too. I can't stop thinking about Goldengale, about Dappleshine, and Softbreeze, and Raventail. It's so hard being powerless to stop this, to have to watch our Clanmates suffer. It breaks my heart, knowing my sister's heart has broken so far, hearing her sob herself to sleep each night." Downtuft could barely restrain the tears. "And you're so young. I know it must be horrifying. And I'm sorry-- I've been an awful mentor. I think we're all a mess, Kid, I know I am," he laughed, but it sounded dry and sad, "My mentor, Finchstar, would probably give a grand and poetic speech about the sun, and the moor, and flowers blooming, and love, and triumph or whatever other else filled that brain of his. But I'm not that great with words and I definitely lack the elegance he had, so I'll just give it to you simply. When life gets tough, and it will, you just continue on. That's all you can do. Scream, cry, hope all you want, but when the sun goes down, you know it will rise the next morning like it always does."

Downtuft offered her a sad, sincere smile, affection in his gaze, "Don't be afraid to be yourself, Day, if they don't like you for you, then that's on them. They'll regret it, because they'll be missing out on an incredibly kind, sensitive, smart, and strong young she-cat. You don't need to mentally and physically exhaust yourself everyday with the facades, Daypaw. You don't have to pretend in front of us, in front of me. It's okay to let it all out. It's okay to cry, just let it all out! Scream if you have to! It's not healthy, furbrain, you ought to know that. So, right now, do whatever you have to do to let out all that built up sad, fear, regret, anger, anything. Just let it all go." Downtuft gave her a goofy grin, and sit perfectly still, waiting for Daypaw to let out all the concentrated emotions. That much raw emotion being released would likely come in the form of attacks, sobs, or screams, and the tom was prepared to endure all three. Whatever it took for Daypaw to feel better, to feel happy.

Daypaw's head swiftly snapped up to look directly at Downtuft. An awful mentor? That was the last thing she saw the tom as. When she looked at her mentor, she saw strength and determination. Vulnerability was something that Daypaw expected every cat to show during this period of time, especially since the Clan had lost more than one cat in such a short amount of time, so she didn't blame Downtuft for showing emotions that she had never seen before. She looked up to the tom no matter how terrible with words he claimed to be.
"Please don't say that," Daypaw sniffled as another small stream of tears slipped out of her eyes and spilled onto her paws, "I think that you're a great mentor. Out of all the warriors in this Clan, I don't think I could ask for a better one. It is horrifying, you're right... but it's not your fault."

Her yellow eyes dropped down to give her white paws a gloomy glance. She had to conjure up some sort of response, but she couldn't base it around what Downtuft wanted to hear. It had to be what she wanted to hear for herself. The only issue that clouded her mind was the fact that she had no idea what she needed to tell herself. No matter how many times she attempted to convince herself that everything would be alright, it seemed as if things only became worse. The term 'it'll be alright' was overused and watered down to a mere empty statement. She had to think beyond that. There was always the awful possibility that things would never be alright ever again, but would it be wise to focus on that? That would only deteriorate her mental health to a state that was beyond repair. Of course it wasn't healthy to bottle things in and of course she knew that; she wasn't stupid. The apprentice had the opportunity to drop her facades in this very moment and give her heart the rest that it needed, and it would be foolish to not make the most of it.

A scream.

The back of her mind knew just how embarrassing screaming in the middle of camp would be, but the rest of her common sense had completely left with the wind. She could feel the stares of a few cats on her back as she let out a high-pitched shriek. A dark mixture of frustration, fear, and sorrow seemed to fuel that scream, every feeling that she had pushed to the corners of her mind and suppressed every since the takeover spilled out of her jaws. It lasted for a few heartbeats, maybe six to be exact, but eventually the lack of breathing ended up causing a dry cough to interrupt her minor breakdown. She hadn't even noticed the fact that her tears had begun to fall more swiftly than before, but she didn't make an attempt to stop them this time. Tears were persistent, and they would fall no matter what she wanted them to do. The scream turned into a cough, the cough turned into silence, and the silence turned into sobs. Daypaw couldn't tell if she was sobbing due to the sheer embarrassment of causing a scene in the middle of camp or due to the fact that crying felt like a weight was being lifted from her shoulders.

The she-cat glanced up at her mentor once again, blinking a bit in order to chase away a few loose tears that were clogging up her vision.
"Cats are looking at me, aren't they?" She forced out between sobs, "Gosh, they probably think I'm a freak or something now."