can't hold on [plot/closed]

Sharp wind roared through the air, blowing snow from high in the treetops onto the already white-packed ground. Light rain dripped down at a slanted angle, and dark gray clouds were coming closer and closer in the distance. Swaths of misty air cloaked the ground in a wraithlike, damp blanket. Shrikefrost's small from moved through the territory with his patrolmates lingering behind. Flashlight and Raisha, specifically. His sister was welcome to hunt with him, but no Asylum cats were. Even the nicer ones. Raisha certainly didn't fit that category. She was the worst cat he had the displeasure of knowing. The tom stood still for a moment, letting mud suck at his paws, until Flashlight was at his side. Even as his expression stayed still as stone, his mind spun with possibilities of how to make this the worst possible patrol for Raisha. He'd had enough of standing around, doing nothing. The least he could do was annoy her.

"So, peltwearer," he projected his voice to carry across the fog. "how long do you intend to stay out? I'm sure it won't be long, considering you couldn't survive this weather without that raccoon coat of yours." Shrikefrost's stride was confident as he spoke, though his ears were pricked behind him to listen for any sign of attack. They were at the edge of the territory, a place rarely patrolled, which meant there would be no help coming if she chose to strike. He was confident enough in his abilities, but he worried that Raisha would harm Flashlight if he wasn't careful. Either would violate the treaty RiverClan had struck with Asylum (if one could call it that), which permitted no violence between the two groups. Perhaps he could get Raisha moved to a different Clan.

It was nice, Flashlight thought, to spend some time with her brother. She hesitated to call him her favorite brother - they had far more in common than she did with Loonwhisper, to be sure, but she loved them equally and wouldn't dare to choose between them in any way. The presence of Asylum was felt and as irritating as ever, of course (they were stuck with one of the less passive guards, as well, which wasn't much help in that regard), but even that couldn't quite dampen her spirits.

As her brother poked the sleeping raccoon, so to speak, she knew it was a bad idea; but she couldn't help joining in, just a little. "Careful, Shrikefrost. You might wound her delicate ego." Then, lowering her voice, meant only for him to hear (because she would take what brief respite she could find in making her distaste clearer than it already was, as far as she was concerned complaining about and insulting the Asylum was an art to be perfected like any other): "And we couldn't have that, could we? Why, without it, there wouldn't be anything left of her to bring back!"

Raisha was already in a very bad mood, to say the least. It was a few days ago she learned of her true origins, the wound still being fresh. What if she was related to the two fish-brains she was patrolling with? No, they would have recognized her, she's taken her pelt off often enough. And she would sooner throw herself into the river and drown than accept them as kin. Her mind was still racing, darting in circles, when Shrikefrost and Flashlight spoke up, and she was quick to round on the two of them.

"Is that brat your sister or your kit, webbed-foot? She's like a burr sticking to your pelt! Can't you do anything on your own, or do you think the little she can protect you? Do I need to call mommy?" She snorted before turning back to the task at hand, but not before one more comment. "It's sad when you can no longer take care of yourself." At least at the Asylum, while they took care of each other, they were just as capable on their own. But could she really depend on the Asylum to take care of her anymore?

Shrikefrost smiled a little as Flashlight joined in on the fun. He glanced behind at Raisha, opting for a bored expression- which quickly turned into thinly veiled anger. "Careful there. Bold words coming from someone hiding under a pelt. It isn’t like you could do anything without the help of the Asylum. If you think I’m so helpless, come and fight me, kit." He couldn’t say for sure if she was older, but from the way she’d insulted him unprovoked the first time they’d met, he doubted her levels of maturity had reached anywhere over the apprentice stage.

...His hadn’t, either.

Now Shrikefrost had done it. Raisha did not need the Asylum. They had done nothing but lie to her. She slid off her raccoon pelt, trampling it into the ground in a blind rage. Then she turned her gaze back to Shrikefrost, anger evident in her eyes, muscles rippling under her fur. She may have been small, but she was taught to fight, and to fight well.

She grinned at Shrikefrost then, a malicious look in her eyes. "I would fight you, but you're too much fun to talk to! Now that crazy deputy on the other hand, what was his name? Ah, I'm so terrible at remembering these things! Oh well, I'm sure no cat would care if he disappeared. Strange Ivystar would choose such a pathetic piece of meat for such a high role? She isn't very smart, is she?"

She clucked her tongue, her tail lashing as she then turned to Flashlight. "The crazy is your guy's brother, correct? I see the resemblance. Uselessness must run in the family, no?" Family. The word struck a cord. Did she have family? Were they looking for her. Did they care that she was gone? "You should drop those two, Shrikefrost. I'd be happy to take care of them for you. Surely you must know how much of a burden family can be. All whiny and needy. Pathetic."

Hopefully Brick didn't hear that. But then, Brick was too dumb to understand, it would be easy to win her back. She loved Brick, but that was the truth.

And she wasn't even certain they were sisters.

Anger. That was the burning fire that threatened to consume him. The consuming flame that seemed to tense every muscle in his body. He was blind to rationality. To the way Raisha had flown into the same rage he had, throwing her raccoon pelt away. He didn’t know about her past. He didn’t bother to think why his insult may have done so much damage. It got under her pelt (literally) in a way he had not expected, but welcomed. A mistake on both sides.

“I don’t want to fight you, she says, as she takes off her pelt to fight me.” Shrikefrost’s voice crescendoed above a clap of thunder and the patter of the rain. It was getting faster. The wind picked up speed. Eyes had darkened to a murky gray. His tail was lashing furiously at her next taunt. Loonwhisper. He had been worried about Flashlight before. This was something else. Loonwhisper had never done anything to provoke Raisha, or the Asylum. He was weird, but kind, kinder than Raisha or himself. None of them deserved this. At that time, Shrikefrost was thinking of RiverClan only. Raisha was just as much forced into this as he was. Neither of them recognized the morality of the other. She had been trained to kill; he had been trained to defend and protect. The time to see which oath would hold steady was now.

He wanted to insult her back. He wanted to make her sorry with just the power of words. The tom was coming to the realization that he couldn’t. Eloquence was not one of his strengths, nor was listening to him one of hers. They hated eachother too much to give words consequence.

Or, until Raisha made another comment with a threat on his innocent brother.

“You take that back.” His voice was dangerously low and quiet. A quietness that, for him, only could really mean one thing. The tensed muscles of both felines were starkly outlined against a pale flash of lightning.

In that brief moment, for whatever distraction could be gained by it, there was a brief twitch of Shrikefrost’s head before he leapt. It was a cruelly efficient leap. He didn’t bother using any tactics that would help a usual battle. He struck with one intent: to kill Raisha. The frenzy he’d been sent into continued to drive him into ignoring the code. Ignoring basic morality. Common sense, as if he’d had any of that to begin with. His claws tore into her chest, below where the vital artistries were, and drew out scores of blood. The momentum rolled her over. Both small, well-muscled cats were tussling on the ground. Each fueled by hatred of their opponent, and a desperate hope that this could change their situations.

Flashlight was content (at least, in the overall discontent sort of way that she presently existed in) to trail after her brother and mock their assigned inconvenience, until said inconvenience chose to mock and threaten Loonwhisper all in the same breath. Their other brother was different, though crazy was more than a few steps out of line in her eyes. Family - whiny, needy, pathetic? She only saw one thing meeting those descriptions now, and it was neither her nor Shrikefrost.

Words were (and always had been) her weapon of choice - a sharp tongue was so much more versatile than claws and teeth. "Well, I suppose I should have expected savages like you wouldn't care for your kin. In that case, then... What about that pathetic little rabbit-brain that tails you around, hm? The one with nothing but dust between her ears. What if I were to, I don't know... Take care of her for you? Or, I suppose, take care of you for her..."

Typically, it would be an idle threat - even as it was, Flashlight had no interest in being named a murderer; she simply wanted to defend her brother's honor and make Raisha hurt. This time, though, just words weren't enough. She followed her brother's attack a moment later, though while he looked to draw blood she looked to cause as much pain as possible with as little effort. She aimed for Raisha's paws and her tail, aiming to cause a sting that would last long after the fight was over.

All her rage boiled over. Raisha hardly knew what happened. Flashlight threatened Brick. She tried to say she didn't care, Brick wasn't her sister, but she found herself toppled over. Shrikefrost was on top of her. Flashlight was attacking, too. There was so much going on, she couldn't even think straight. All she saw was red. And she wanted these cats gone.

She didn't know what she was doing, not truly. Her training simply took over. While she was no nightstriker, she knew how to fight. She lashed out, scoring claw marks down Shrikefrost's stomach. She had to get out before she could do anything on the offensive, though. She squirmed, worming her way out from the Tom's grip before twisting to be on his back. She raked him, constantly and unrelenting.

And it was that point Raisha lost control. She was finally getting rid of the thorn in her pelt. She couldn't even register guilt or horror once the deed had been done. She had truly lost herself. And after it was all done, she only had one thing left to say.

"He can lie all he wants. I will never be one of you." Of course, she was referring to Roe, as he was the one to reveal Raisha was of Clan origin. But if these were her kin, she wanted no part of it.

The patchy, dilute, snarling and panting face of Raisha seemed to still for a moment. The world warped apart until the stormy sky blossomed into the colors of sunset, and then to moonhigh, and the territory he knew so well seemed to morph under his body to lush grass. Clattering of pebbles and the sounds of battle stopped. Raisha's weight disappeared. Flashlight drifted away. Shrikefrost's eyes had been closed, squinted to avoid the smattering of blood his face was bathed in. They opened, now, to observe the world around him.

There was a part of him that knew what had happened, and another that refused to accept it. "I want to go back," he said plaintively, to the air of the forest and babbling of the brooks. There was no response. The tom stood. All of the blood was gone, his scars and bruises too. He craned his head and studied his pelt for a moment. Glossy as if he'd just groomed. He continued to stand until the silence grew into a shrill ringing. "I want to go back," he said again, more forcefully. As if he could will life into existence. "Please." Begging, to no one in particular.

"It can't just end like this. I can't just die-- now, here, like this. Flashlight. She needs help. RiverClan needs help. Why couldn't I have lived..." Shrikefrost's voice trailed off as a cat appeared from the mist. It was an achingly familiar tortoiseshell pelt. Splashpaw. And then the next, and the next. Echokit. Hollykit. He took an unsteady breath and forced tears not to flow. His tail fell to the ground as he sprinted towards his kin and buried his head in their fur. Words could not communicate the emotion he felt as he collapsed into his sister and kits. "I've missed you," he whispered, "so much."

As her brother fell still, Flashlight froze. That wasn't - that wasn't how this went, no, it wasn't fair. It wasn't right, it was the wrong ending. It wasn't supposed to end here. "Shrikefrost...?" she asked softly, Raisha all but forgotten. "Just get up. Shrikefrost, please... Don't leave me like this, I..." She faltered, laying half-collapsed next to him, and buried her face in his fur. "I can't do this without you. Come back, please... What am I supposed to tell Ivystar? What am I supposed to tell Loonwhisper? I'll do anything! Anything at all, if it will just - if you'll just come back."

Her voice cracked on the last few words, much like her calm and collected façade. Flashlight had not, simply put, understood suffering before that moment. She thought that she had, after the Asylum's hostile takeover, but nothing she had ever lived through compared to sobbing over her brother's limp body; to the realization that she was utterly, horrifyingly alone, that she would have to carry the news back to the one sibling she still had. "StarClan, please, if you've any mercy at all in your distant, frozen hearts... If you care about us at all... I just want my brother back."

(There was no mercy to be found beyond the clouded leaf-bare sky, that much she already knew. If anything, the rain seemed to pick up a little more after she made her request. Still, she had to try, for Shrikefrost.)

"As for you," she hissed softly, more venom than any adder could hope to deliver seeping through in her voice as she lifted her gaze to meet Raisha. "I hope you die, I hope it's slow and painful, and I hope your little tagalong has to watch every last second of it. I hope they leave you for the birds, which is still so much more than you deserve. I hope you drown, and I hope the fish laugh at you while you're sinking and struggling to breathe. I hope you lose everything you've ever dared to care about, and I hope the last thing you ever see is the panic in your little rabbit-brained sister's eyes. And let me be clear, let me leave absolutely no question in my words: should you chance even a single glance in Loonwhisper's general direction, I'll see to all of this myself."

Raisha chuckled, a low, dark sound. "Oh Flashlight, did you not know? I've already died. I have no life left to live. Noone to live for. You mentioned Brick? She is no sister of mine. I may have believed her to be once, but now? She is nothing. Tell me, girl, how sure are you your life is your own? Is this really your brother? Are these cats really your family? Or is that just what they had said?"

The calico took a few menacing steps forward, her gaze fixed on the she-cat in front of her. She got rid of Shrikefrost. Now she had the chance to get rid of her too. "You may have lost Shrikefrost, but do you really know true pain? Do you know what it is like to have nothing left? Do you know what it is to have your heart torn, until you are nothing but a shell? Perhaps I can demonstrate."

Another step. And then another. And she never once tore her gaze away. She was going to get rid of the thorn in her side at last. She wasn't Asylum anymore. She never was. But she refused to be a Clan cat, either. So this truce they had? It meant nothing now. She would do as she pleased.

The scout had been doing hunting along the riverbank when she heard the yowling and the sounds of fighting. Head snapping in the direction of the noise, her ears pricked, straining to make sense of what she'd heard. There should be little reason for fighting, the Asylum had done a fine job of taking care of most predators in the territory... But this didn't sound like cats fighting a predator.

It sounded like cats fighting other cats. Which definitely shouldn't be happening.

Abandoning her search for prey, Eosphoros moved on silent paws, following the noise. Scout's training demanded she be cautious as she approached, rushing into an unknown situation would do her no favors.

And then Eos caught sight of the cats. Flashlight, Shrikefrost... One of the standards, Raisha. Shrikefrost was on the ground, still and bloodied. Flashlight's nose buried in his fur. No sign of a predator in sight...

"What's going on?" She called out. Time to get the pair of cats' attention away from each other. Raisha was advancing on the Riverclanner, and Eos' gaze snapped to the standard in shock as their words registered.

"Raisha!" She called out, voice loud and sharp. "Raisha! That's enough!" The scout stormed closer now, inserting herself between the two she-cats, carefully placing herself so that she could see each of them. She purposely bared her shoulder towards Raisha, the two scars showing that she outranked the Standard despite their different factions.

"Were your orders to fight those we've been trying to peacefully bring under Asylum's law, Standard? Were your orders to antagonize them? Back off. Now." Eos very rarely growled. It was certainly not something the Riverclanners would've heard from her before, nor even her fellow Asylum members. Eos was one of the calmer, friendlier cats even among the scouts. That she'd raised her voice at all and seemed visibly angry at the situation should be a warning sign to this standard, at the very least.

Fear sparked in Flashlight's eyes, just a hint of it, because who would tell Loonwhisper, and who would tell Ivystar, and also - and this was the important one, even if she wouldn't admit to it; not over her brother's dead body - she didn't want to die. She wasn't sure she wanted to live like this, but she knew with great certainty that she didn't want to die.

Eos' arrival called her attention. She held a great distaste for all of the Asylum nuisances - especially now - but Eos, at least, tended to pull her own weight and seemed nearly as upset as she was at what had transpired here. Eos wasn't advancing on her with the intent to kill, and that was in all ways an improvement from her current situation. The scout's presence, hopefully, meant she was safe for the moment - and that she could focus on what actually mattered. Stars, how was she going to carry Shrikefrost's body back to camp?

Raisha narrowed her eyes as she was interrupted from her goal. Eosphoros now stood in front of her, with an anger she had never known from the scout. After all, scouts were supposed to be the friendly ones. And she could not help but narrow her eyes as this one commanded her, bile rising as Raisha was called a scout. That was right. Eos did not know of the information Raisha now possessed. Did she know where I had come from? Had she lied to me too? She would get that answer in time, but for now, she had to go on the defensive. The knowledge she had was precious, and if it was known that she had it, she would be killed.

"It was kill or be killed, Eosphoros. They attacked me. What was I supposed to do? I had to defend myself! That could be me lying on the ground there instead of Shrikestorm! It almost was me! Would you defend them the same way you are now if that were the case? Is the life of a RiverClanner, who attacked me first, more important than one of your own? Were your orders to turn away from the Asylum that way? They even threatened to kill Brick, Eos. I did what I had to. I have no regrets."

Except that Flashlight is still alive.

"You aren't, so the point is moot." She responded simply.

"The Riverclanners won't take the death of one of their own lightly. You do realize that our goal here is not violence? Regardless of who started it, this did not need to end in death." Wisteriabloom wouldn't take it well, and Ivystar was sure to be livid. The leader had made it very clear how she felt about the thought of her clanmates being harmed, and death went a bit beyond that. Eos had a sneaking suspicion that the moons of diplomacy had taken a hit that wouldn't be so easily recovered from.

No, the Riverclanners would remember this. Regardless of who had attacked first or who had threatened who, they would blame Asylum. Raisha wasn't hers to punish, however. And the matter of the dead was more important. If there was a way to salvage this, Shrikefrost would be taken back to his clan and given whatever burial customs the clans had. The warrior deserved that much, at the very least.

"I can help carry him back, if you'll allow it." Eos turned to Flashlight then, but wouldn't make a move towards the she-cat unless she agreed. That would only provoke her further, if she had to guess, and Eos wouldn't impose herself upon the grieving she-cat anymore than was strictly necessary.