Careful What You Wish For [Ravenclaw]

Smokefeather stretched, grimacing at the pain in her leg. Keeping the damaged limb tucked close to her body and off of the ground had resulted in stiffness, not that she could bend it or put weight on it anyways. Still, Beechface had growled at her to at least stretch every once in a while; apparently she hadn't realized Smokefeather was already doing so. It was torturous, but the stiffness that now plagued the damaged limb was even worse.

With a huff, Smokefeather limped outside of the elder's den, sparing a glare for the clouds that hung overhead, promising rain. She'd never liked rain, and could have swore that her leg actually felt worse because of it. Or maybe laying around camp with nothing to do was making her lose whatever sanity she had left. Smokefeather wasn't sure which idea was preferable.

Smokefeather sat, tail twitching restlessly as she surveyed the camp. Birdsong, one of her grandkits, vanished through the camp entrance, and Smokefeather wished she could've joined her. If the slender tabby was anything like half the family, she'd be scrambling for a last piece of fresh kill and to be back in her nest before the rain started... Though Smokefeather hardly even knew that much about her grandkit. She'd... Distanced herself from more than just the grandkits, though, hadn't she? It was something she needed to go about repairing, yet that was easier said than done.

Shortly after Birdsong left, Ravenclaw came through the entrance into camp. She immediately went to put her freshkill away, then took a look around the camp. Rain was soon to come, which wasn't the worst thing. It never felt good to have her pelt stuck to her body, but at least it washed away the scents of the other clans. That's why she liked to do border patrols after a hard rain: the less she had to have anything to do with the other clans, the better. The whole Asylum thing didn't count.

Presently, her eyes fell on Smokefeather resting by herself. Ravenclaw frowned slightly, wondering if her mom wanted to just sit there alone. Was her entire family just ravaged beyond repair after what happened with the Asylum? If it wasn't, it sure felt like it. With her tailtip just hovering above the ground, she padded over to Smokefeather.

"Hey mom," she purred, the awkwardness in her tone easily evident. "Don't you want to be back in the elder's den? It's going to rain soon." Small talk: she was still working on that. That wasn't too bad, if she did say so herself.

Smokefeather eyed Ravenclaw as she padded towards her, noting her daughter's hesitancy in her lowered tail and movements.

"Ravenclaw, how are you?" Smokefeather attempted a smile for her daughter, but it dropped away at the mention of the elder's den. It probably hadn't even been on purpose, but the reminder was like a thorn she couldn't get out of her paw. And each day made it dig a bit deeper.

"I'll go in a bit," Smokefeather huffed, tail tip twitching unhappily. It almost felt like some of her clanmates wanted her to be stuck in the elder's den. As if she wasn't capable of making decisions for herself and needed to be treated like some delicate flower or an invalid. "It's not raining yet." She added mildly, trying to keep the edge out of her tone. Stars, she despised it. Foxfire wasn't the worst company, but she hated being stuck with nothing to do. She couldn't hunt, couldn't patrol, and the elder's den was downright stifling. Serve the clan and retire, have food and bedding brought to you, be treated with sheathed claws and a concern born out of pity. It was enough to make any self-respecting warrior go mad.

"I'm fine," Ravenclaw responded quickly, though without much conviction. She was already mentally berating herself for acting out of character. Being sad and out of it was not the Ravenclaw mood. She was a strong SkyClan warrior!... who just happened to be concerned about her family and moody over her relationship with her favorite cat being a sham. That was completely normal. "It's probably going to be raining soon, though. Right?" She looked up at the sky, the clouds remaining gray and static. Her tail lifted up just enough to make it not look like she had dragged herself over there out of obligation. "How have... things with Bloodstrike been?" It was pretty obvious that things were not as beautiful as a bluejay between those two, but they were still her parents. She didn't want them to be mad at each other forever.

Ravenclaw's response was quick, and about as convincing as Smokefeather's smile had been. Which was to say, not at all. That seemed to be Skyclan's normal, as of late, and Smokefeather wondered what was on her daughter's mind. She stretched forward, gently bumping the top of Ravenclaw's head with her nose. Though coming from her, Smokefeather doubted the gesture meant much.

She'd been half-expecting the question sooner or later, and even more dreading it. She and Bloodstrike... There was no simple answer there, and their kits didn't need to bear the emotional backlash of their parents' hangups. Smokefeather gazed at her paws, a sigh escaping her.

"Your father-" Smokefeather began, then paused, a low huff that could've been laughter or anger, frustration, bitterness maybe, escaping her. "-is a sleep-deprived idiot with nothing but feathers between his ears." Well, she'd been honest, at least. But Ravenclaw didn't need her mother to vent at her, and didn't need the burden of being her emotional support. "We're not fighting, kitten... Though he might have a point that neither of us would be good for each other right now." It hurt to say but what else was there to say? He'd ended things between them, it had been his choice. Smokefeather was hurt, but she'd respect it. She wasn't sure she had the willpower to try reasoning with him, not with everything else going on. Bloodstrike needed more help than what time and distance would give him, and Smokefeather wasn't blind enough to believe that she could help at all.

"Regardless, I'm still here for you, Ravenclaw." This was her kit, after all, and whatever was going on between Smokefeather and Bloodstrike, she couldn't let it affect her relationship with their children.

"What's bothering you?" She asked finally, gray-green eyes meeting her daughter's gaze. She'd noticed her hesitancy and awkwardness... And noticed how Ravenclaw had tried to hide it. Smokefeather could at least lend an ear to listen, if Ravenclaw needed it.

Hearing the truth come from Smokefeather didn't make Ravenclaw feel better like she'd hoped it would. It just confirmed her fears that the clan had become completely dysfunctional around her. If only she wasn't just as dysfunctional as the rest of them... Maybe she could drag them into normalcy with her own paws. Alas, even if she wasn't dealing with her own issues, there was only so much she could do without being in a position of power. Well, more power than her bloodline was giving her.

She wanted things to be better, and that started with her father. However, poor Bloodstrike hadn't been the same since the battle with Asylum. That wasn't a secret: even the youngest kits had some inkling that he was in rough shape. Seeing him around, not in his right mind, hurt Ravenclaw more than even she likely realized. Bloodstrike's mental state, Copperfox's death... What had cursed SkyClan? Was this punishment from StarClan for the forbidden secret she held with Beechface and Wrenspring? Her sister was the medicine cat. Surely she must have gleamed some information from their ancestors.

"Bothering me?" It took her a moment to realize she had been spacing out with her own thoughts, not giving an answer to her mother's question. "Where to even begin," she laughed, avoiding Smokefeather's gaze. There was only so much she could tell her mother: she could feel the truth gnawing at her insides again. If only the kits were really hers. They should be hers... "We are in ruin," she answered bitterly, clawing at the ground. "It feels as if StarClan has cursed us for something we have done." Something that she couldn't even tell her own mother. Did Beechface feel the same way when she spoke with Smokefeather, or did she not care that she was lying to her own blood?

"You're not wrong, it does feel like it at times." Smokefeather could have said it was just being cynical but it seemed like there was always something going wrong. From the fire and Mistrain's death, to the foxes that killed Sagelight and Dustpaw, and the Asylum with ell the doom they had wrought upon the clan. "Though it's probably more along the lines of Skyclan existing, than any one cat bringing doom." She muttered dryly.

Ravenclaw was lucky to be a warrior. She was lucky to have a mate that wasn't a complete fool that she could turn to through all of this. All Smokefeather had was her own thoughts, and there was nothing productive in that.

"What do you mean? Why would our existence be so wrong?" She had heard whispers here and there, but she didn't have the full story on why this would be true. It seemed wrong, since SkyClan was probably the clan in the forest that most adhered to the laws handed down to them by their ancestors. The other clans had thrown that all away for simpering weak-willed actions. Why should they be the ones punished for actually following the will of their ancestors?

"We've had two leaders abandon us recently. Tinylegs chose to stay in Riverclan after the fire, and to hear the tales he did some terrible things as leader including murdering an apprentice. Spottedstar just up and left in the middle of the night like a coward, after moons of not even acting like a leader." Smokefeather shrugged, "Wolfstar is at least trying his best, but has Skyclan's situation improved any?" It sure hadn't felt like it, at least. The Asylum was gone, but things hadn't exactly gone back to normal... Not that Skyclan had ever been normal while Smokefeather had been alive.

Ravenclaw listened in silent horror. To hear that their own leaders would do stuff so terrible and cowardly... Well, it didn't give much hope for the rest of the clan. "That's terrible," she whispered, more just to have it out in the open rather than saying it to Smokefeather specifically. "There has to be something we can do." She looked up at the sky, as if their ancestors would slip through the canopies and bequeath unto her an answer. That did not happen. She was going to have to come up with an idea on her own. "Then... we have to save SkyClan. From our history and this so-called curse. Maybe we can talk to Wolfstar?" she offered, though she wasn't sure what they were supposed to say to him. "We have to do something, right?" But what?

"Stars if I know." Smokefeather sighed. "I think Wolfstar is doing his best, at least. Bloodstrike, for all his faults, does genuinely want the best for the clan. Beechface too, as frustrating as she can be to deal with." Bloodstrike was a fool, but for now at least Smokefeather didn't doubt that his ambitions were focused on bettering the clan with his own leadership. Beechface had been far more reluctant than her father had been to step into any sort of leadership role, but it seemed as though she was finally, truly settling into the path she'd been chosen for. "The clan is lucky to have loyal warriors like you around, Ravenclaw." Warriors that were dedicated to the clan would only improve it with time, after all.

"Thanks, mom. I try my best." Ravenclaw smiled softly, happy to receive praise from her mom. At least the two of them cared about their clan. Not that she thought the rest of the clan didn't, but if they wanted to truly break free from whatever clouds were hanging low over them, they needed to do something different. Immediately the thought came to mind: new leadership. That wasn't something she could bring up lightly, though, not least because leadership was her own family. That was traitorous in her mind. Still, something needed to be done...