Don't Listen to the Screaming [C]

Dawnhawk was physically exhausted when he finally made his way to this place. What a sight for sore eyes this was. The camp was clearly still abandoned... and had been for quite some time. Everything was run down and unkempt. At least it meant that he and Dawnpaw were going to be alone here. Dawnpaw... why had she been named that? The pale tom plopped the unconscious apprentice down onto the ground and he flopped down next to her. His mouth was dry, but he needed to take a break from running for a moment before going to get water. He had little doubt that Dawnpaw wouldn't also be thirsty... perhaps hungry too. It had taken quite awhile to get here even with the speed of a Windclan cat.

"Why are you named after me...?" He asked, though he couldn't tell if the apprentice had woken up yet. He more or less just asked the universe around him rather than her. His eyes went to the sky as he continued to talk to... no one in particular. "Is it just a mockery? Did someone else actually care about me back there?" Blossomstep's look of betrayal flashed through his head again and he dropped his chin to the floor. Why did all of this feel so wrong? At the same time he felt justified... What was the right way to feel right now?

Dawnpaw’s eyelids flickered. Stars, that was the worst dream she’d ever had. It was a dream, it was a dream. She would force herself to believe it if she had to. It had been too terrible to be anything but. She wouldn’t think about it. She wouldn’t think about it. The lynx point let out a small groan as she opened her eyes, coming to her senses just too late to catch her uncle’s words. “Sorry… didn’t quite catch that…” she mumbled, looking up at him with confusion. Why was she here? “I think you may have the wrong cat. I’m Dawnpaw. I’ve never seen you before. No offense…” her voice trailed off as she set her head on her paws, letting her head rest for a moment longer. She didn’t know how she got here. Nothing had happened at camp. Just a bad dream. Just a bad dream.

Dawnhawk was surprised to hear the apprentice answer him. He looked over at her as confusion set in. She was... calm for someone who just witnessed murders and was kidnapped by said murderer. Had he broken her? Was it too much for her young mind to handle? Maybe... but he was okay with taking a break from intense emotions. Maybe the realization of what she had been through would dawn upon her later.

"I wasn't in Skyclan when you were born. It's okay." He got to his feet, though his paws ached and his legs were still shaky. "There is some water not too far from here. Follow me. There are predators around that would love to snatch up an apprentice like you." He turned in the direction of where the Asylum would take their water from, a small stream that seemed to disappear into the ground at some point. He never investigated where it lead or where it's true source was. It was simply just... there.

"I was called Dawnpaw once," He spoke softly, his voice rougher than usual from the fighting and yelling the day prior. "Spottedstar was the leader before Wolfstar. He's the one that named me Dawnhawk." His eyes then flicked the apprentice and he waited for some kind of reaction. It was then that he realized the back of her neck had some blood on it. He would need to address those puncture wounds soon.

Luckily for Dawnpaw, her jailor (more or less) had been trained by intelligent rogues that knew how to fight and heal. He'd treat her injuries once he found the appropriate plants. They were likely near the water though, where they were going.

“Oh, good.” Dawnpaw rose slowly to her paws, waiting until the world stopped spinning. She walked after the tomcat, paws faltering. She was barely more than a kit, covered in kitten fluff and with a kit like spring in her step- at least there was one, usually. “I would not like to get confused with somecat else. ” Dawnhawk. Hadn’t she heard that recently? Didn’t Moma say something about…oh…yes…right. “Moma talked about you. I think. My head hurts… yes, she said not to talk about you to Smokema. Smokema is my grandmother. She doesn’t like beetles.” Or did she? Dawnpaw frowned. Did Smokema like beetles? Maybe? She couldn’t remember- suddenly something came back to her that should have come back to her earlier. “She also said if I saw you to tell the nearest adult immediately…” She looked up at him with wide eyes the same shade as his own. Why was she supposed to not talk to him? She couldn’t remember- it would come back to her, once her head stopped hurting. “My head hurts… I don’t want to have to run and find the nearest warrior… Aha! You’re a warrior! There. Now Moma won’t be angry- but she’s never angry. It comes of being light. Cats with the suffix light aren’t angry. Have you noticed?” Her head was throbbing…water would be good for her. She liked water. There wasn’t a water in her Clan. Was she supposed to like water? She couldn’t remember… that was kinda scary-like. When she found water she’d dunk her head in it. That would make her feel better, and then she could think straight. As straight as she ever thought, anyways.

As Dawnpaw followed him and talked... Dawnhawk couldn't help but slowly raise one eyebrow at her. It was at that moment he was beginning to feel that naming her Dawn was meant to be an insult and a mockery, not at all because he was missed or someone wanted him back home. As much as it mildly annoyed him, he found himself perfectly fine with it as well. It made what he did at the camp a lot easier to deal with.

"Smokefeather... doesn't like beetles?" That was new. He never knew his mother didn't like beetles. Tell the closest adult... Dawnhawk gave her a smirk, trying with all of his might to be a bit of a smart-tail, but Dawnpaw solved her own problem. Exactly the way Dawnhawk meant for her to, but not actually. This was definitely meant to be a mockery... He thought to himself in reference to them sharing a name.

"Congratulations, Dawnpaw." His voice was heavy with sarcasm. Though her next question was at least ponder-worthy. He only knew of two -lights, Sagelight and Primroselight... and neither of them seemed to get angry easy. "You're not wrong. I wouldn't assume that about all -lights though. I know a Lightbringer.... and he's just as bad as me." Because Lightbringer and Dawnhawk were the same cat... but he wasn't about to tell her that. They approached the stream and Dawnhawk greedily lapped up the fresh water. He'd needed it... that had been one heck of a long journey. After catching some food, he would want nothing more than to sleep.

He dunked his mouth, his head, his neck and his paws into the stream, rinsing away the blood. He took a few quick breaths, bracing himself for the cold, before he forced himself into the water. It wasn't terribly deep. He could stand in it just fine... but it wasn't warm at all. He rolled a few times to clean the mud from his pelt as well, and he was all too happy to get out of the water and start to shake himself off. He turned around to look in the stream again...

"Stars-curse you, Wrenspring. May the Dark Forest take you and skin you!" He growled furiously. The scars were ugly. His ear was torn. The deep slashes down his face and along his neck would heal, but they would never completely go away. The wounds did remind him of Dawnpaw's injuries as well. He glanced around for the right plants. Comfrey root and marigold... well... that seemed to be it.

He went to work grabbing a few of the plants out of the ground and chewed them up, barely repressing his gag reflex from how bitter the plant was. "Dawnpaw, come here." He ordered, right after he... not so gracefully slathered himself with the poultice. It was the best he could do on himself.

"I need to treat the back of your neck where I bit you. You've got puncture wounds."

Dawnpaw dunked her head into the water and held it there for a few moments. There. That was better. She sat down, taking deep breaths. She could practically feel her wits returning, and with them memories she pushed away. To distract herself, she commented on Dawnhawk’s earlier comment. “Lightbringer isn’t -light. It’s Light-. That doesn’t count. What a cat is named at birth is never as expressive as their suffix. For example, I was named a…after…after you…” She froze, mind whirring as her uncle (yes, he was her uncle, how had she forgotten) called her over. Her paws moved of their own accord. She sat down before him, staring up into his face with wide eyes. She wasn’t exactly afraid so much as curious. She would be afraid later, if she needed to. “Why did you kill her?” Alright, now she was afraid. Her mouth had a bad habit of saying things without letting her brain check it over to make sure she wouldn’t get killed for it. She had to say something else, quickly- “-hawk is an interesting prefix. It shows that Spottedstar felt strongly enough about you to give you a name that, upon first inspection, makes no sense. -Hawk typically means fierce, smart, strong, good eyes, good hunter… aggressive… ” A ploy for time. She’d spoken as quickly as she could. Hopefully she’d distracted him? Surely he wouldn’t do anything to her. He cared enough to tend to her wounds which he caused, a nasty little part of her whispered before being quickly shoved away. Dawnpaw sat anxiously, wide eyes staring up at her uncle. She could see the deputy in him. She could see Smokema in him. She could see the tiniest bit of Moma in him. For now, she couldn’t see herself in him. At least, she hoped.

Dawnhawk gave the apprentice an unamused look, even though she was correct about the difference between -light and Light-. Still, now that her brain was clearing up she was actually surprisingly good for conversation. She confirmed it... she was named after him. It was no accident. He sighed, choosing to keep his mouth closed about it for now. He smeared the poultice on the back of her neck. It was much easier than putting it on himself.

"That should keep any infection at bay. Just don't rub it off for awhile."

He flicked the remainder of the poultice off of his paw with a wet slap on the ground.

“Why did you kill her?”

Featherkit and Maplepaw flashed through his head in rapid succession. Both crumpled bodies inside a den. Both of them his siblings. Neither of them got a real chance at any kind of life. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him. He slammed his paw hard onto the ground and took in a deep breath to clear it. His paw made an audible thump in the dirt, but aside form that Dawnpaw didn't get much of a reaction.

I didn't mean to kill either of them. He almost said it, but his mouth wouldn't work. He just sat in silence for several heartbeats and hardly moved. She kept talking... and while he might have had something to say about it, a lot of his interest and motivation to talk to the apprentice was gone. Once he finally did move, it was to fix her in a harsh stare. A warning. No more questions.

"Come help me hunt. We're getting a little bit of food and then I'm going to sleep for awhile. I'm tired." It wasn't a request. "Tell me what you already know about hunting. I'll fill in the gaps of your knowledge." He was already moving towards the sparse amount of trees in the area and his tail beckoned for her to follow.

Well. She was still alive. She was still alive! Haha, life was good. Dawnpaw smiled broadly, wondering why she had been worried. Her fear disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and she trotted eagerly after her uncle. “Hunting…well… today is my first day as an apprentice. Hunting… I don’t really… Stag is a lot better at it than me. Stag’s awesome at everything. She’s just like that.” Her tail drooped sadly. Stag. She missed Stag. She missed Moma and Smokema and Stag and… and everyone. Still, at least she got to spend time with her uncle. Whispers of doubt wormed their way into her head, and she banished them quickly. He hadn’t meant to, surely. Remember- give everycat the benefit of the doubt. She raised her head. Give everycat the benefit of the doubt. Moma’s words came into her head. “The warrior Dawnhawk could’ve been…” Moma had told her about that. Moma was right. Dawnhawk must have had some awesome potential! She’d live up to him, or who he could have been. Already, in her mind, she was overlaying the vicious murderer with a kind, misunderstood cat. Dawnpaw was like that.

Dawnhawk leaped onto a tree and climbed it with ease. He waited on one of the lower branches, leaning forward to gently help Dawnpaw up, should she need it. She would still need to climb within his reach though, he wasn't going to do everything for her. No experience hunting? Well... she wouldn't be even the third apprentice he trained that wasn't his. A lot of mentors didn't seem to care about their apprentices, and Dawnhawk had taken full advantage of that. He may have a lot of enemies, but he had a lot of admirers and cats who owed him as well.

"Stag? .... Stag... I knew a Stag. Not well, but I knew of them." It couldn't be the Asylum Stag... was it? Skyclan had changed a lot if they were allowing Asylum cats into their ranks. "You look a lot like me... I'm willing to bet your mother is Primroselight. Well your bright fur comes with a price." His eyes scanned across the open landscape. He could see a few rodents scattered about. A few birds too. Well, beggars can't be choosers.

"The best time to hunt is early in the morning and just two hours before sunset. Cats with bright fur like ours have a hard time hiding in darkness and shadows. Even long grass doesn't conceal you completely. So instead... we attack from the light. In the morning, hunt from East to West so that your back is to the sun. As the sun comes up, it will hide you in it and prey can't look at you. Its too bright for their eyes."

His shadow was long across the ground, but prey almost never paid any attention to shadows as long as they were fairly still. He slowly, and skillfully, got into a silent crouch on the branch as a rodent came close. He would demonstrate for the apprentice, then he would fully expect her to catch her own food.

"Like this," He whispered to her, before he kicked off of the branch in complete silence.

Dawnhawk attempted to catch a rat! He was Successful!

-3SP

He landed on the rat, pinning it to the ground and swiftly biting it's head to kill it. Not a single noise. Not wanting to spoil Dawnpaw's chances of hunting, the adult tom took his kill and moved away quickly from the area. It was her turn now. I was given the name -hawk because I hunt like one. From the trees... and strike when something is close. But he would wait to tell her that. She needed to focus right now.

The member 'Tara' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 1

Dawnpaw clambered up the tree after her uncle, grateful for his helping paw. He knew Stag? Well, it couldn’t be the same Stag if he had left SkyClan before she was born. Of course her mother was Prima. Prima. Prim-ma. Yes! Dawnpaw was a genius! Prima was perfect. It invoked memories of Smokema and her own little spark of Primroselight-ity. It was one of those things that made a little sliver of happiness go down her spine. Contentment… a price? For a moment she thought wildly of having to pay StarClan a bird feather for every hair on her pelt. Oh. Hunting, right. Dawnpaw listened intently. Early in the morning and two hours before sunset. Alright. Hiding in the Dawn made sense, a comfortable amount of sense. Like starting at dawn- Great StarClan! She’d have to work extra hard to show the deputy she knew how do… do SkyClan stuff. Dawnhawk’s whisper penetrated her thoughts. She watched with wide eyes as he leaped… pounced… pinned…killed… all in silence. It brought tears to her eyes, the beautiful poetry of it. She could understand, finally, why SkyClan was always spoken of as the best Clan. This… was beautiful. She pitied the cats who couldn’t do it. It was poetry in motion.

Dawnpaw abruptly brought that train of thought to a halt. She wanted to talk to Dawnhawk about it. Dawnhawk. Dawnhawk. She’d have to come up with a better name. Unclehawk. Hawkuncle. Hawkuncle. That would do, for now at least. Oh. Wait. She was supposed to hunt, wasn’t she? She glanced around until she saw a… mouse-like thing with a long tail. Like what her uncle had caught. She crouched on the branch as best she could, and swallowed down her fear as she prepared to leap. It wasn’t exactly poetry in motion, but she did manage to catch it, killing it swiftly. For a moment she stared at it as it lay at her paws, a small amount of blood on its neck. “ Have a good journey to StarClan, little one.” She picked it up in her mouth and trotted after Hawkuncle. It took a few tries, but she finally managed to figure out how to talk around the mouse thing in her mouth. “Stag is my sister. She’s really good at… stuff.” She set the mouse thing down and looked up at Hawkuncle with her characteristic wide eyes. “That was beautiful, the way you caught it. Poetry in motion, like the soft singing of a songbird, the pounce, the harsh yet melodious sounds of a raven, the kill, the aftermath, the soft rustling of leaves in the morning wind. What qualities did Spottedstar say when he named you?” It was a sudden and abrupt change of topic, but the question had flown into her head and straight out her mouth, as usual. You could learn an awful lot about a cat from their name and warrior ceremony. Oh, and she needed to ask Hawkuncle about how to hunt like he did. Like a flowing stream.

Dawnpaw caught a rat, costing 3 stamina.

The member 'Cocoa' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 4

Dawnhawk watched as the apprentice steadied herself into a crouched position on the branch. She had the form right... which was rare for apprentices on their first try. The rat was well within range too. All she had to do was aim and pounce correctly and she'd have it. She leaped from the branch and landed squarely on top of the rodent, quickly killing it. "Nice!" He complimented her. At the mention o Stag being her sister, Dawnhawk realized it was definitely not the same Stag. That made more sense. What didn't make sense was... why Stag??? That wasn't a clan name...

Before he could inquire further about that, Dawnpaw was already talking again. Her words surprised him... and very shortly after being surprised he felt... was abashed the word he was looking for? Flattered? Definitely flattered.

"I... well thank you!" He couldn't help but stand up a little straighter. He didn't realize that he needed something like that until he had it. Just an instant later, confusion set in again. Does she just... not care that I'm a killer? I know that she knows... Pushing the confusion aside for now, he was ready to return compliments of his own.

"It's not often I find anyone who cares for words or poetry... it's something I admire myself." He wasn't sure how to bring any o it up at the moment though. He'd been caught completely off guard. He imagined himself having to chase this little apprentice down a few times, maybe even twist her paw so she'd be easy to catch. Yet here they were... getting along like nothing was wrong.

Suspicious indeed.

"Well we both have something to eat. I have been fighting and running all night, so after we eat these, I want sleep. Now... can I trust you to be smart enough to not try to run away? There are a lot of predators out here, and some not so friendly cats. You wouldn't last very long on your own... and you don't know the way home." He began to carry his rat back to the camp. It wasn't fancy, but it was better than being exposed out in the elements.

Run off? Why would she run off? That would be the stupidest thing she had ever done in her entire life. Dawnpaw was many things (weird, odd, annoying, confusing, naive, gullible, etc) but stupid was not one of them. She knew she’d end up back at SkyClan, eventually, and right now wanted to enjoy some time with her uncle. The lynx point pushed some not very nice thoughts about said uncle to the back of her mind. Everycat deserved a second chance. Give him the benefit of the doubt. It would accomplish nothing to yowl at him or get angry. Besides, she’d never met a cat that would take her precious statement in his stride. Even Stag thought she was a bird-brain sometimes, but Hawkuncle seemed very nice. (Bees seem very nice, a little part of her whispered, and yet they have a terrible sting. And they’re the same color.) Dawnpaw picked up her rat and followed her uncle. Her thought process was almost complete. Dawnhawk, the vicious murderer and traitor had been replaced with Hawkuncle, a nice and understanding cat. She just wouldn’t mention some stuff around him, just like she wouldn’t mention some stuff around Smokema, and how Moma knew not to mention some stuff around her, like Stag eating her beetle. Dawnpaw walked after her uncle, smiling. She had thought she’d never be able to meet the cat she was named after, and yet here she was! She could spend time with Moma and Stag and Smokema later. For right now, she would enjoy the present. After all, there was no point in doing anything else.

“I won’t run off. We could be in StarClan for all I know!” The she-cat let out a laugh at her own joke. Funny. Maybe Hawkuncle would get it? He seemed like he’d get that sort of thing. This would be fun… for now, at least. Sooner or later Moma would get worried about her. Hawkuncle would take her back, then. She was sure. Yes, little annoying part of me, I’m sure he will. The benefit of the doubt. The benefit of the doubt.