stars, stories, and security [closed]

Stoatfur felt particularly calm underneath the the blanket of stars overhead. The moon was surrounded by a pale, ethereal glow that he could not help but glance it every now and then. Trotting alongside Thrushnose felt natural, easy. He'd given little merit to their relationship as mother and son, often trying to lean into something akin to friendship or clanmateship. But there was no denying the blood that they shared or the way he so easily fell into step like a kit. Realizing how he sought to keep even pace with her, his ear heated slightly. Any level of intimacy had spark discomfort. Perhaps it stemmed from his father. Or maybe something else that had deeply rooted itself into his soul.

"I prefer evening patrols far more than dawn ones. Don't you?" Stoatfur finally said, tipping his head to glance at the deputy with rounded eyes. Such pleasantries were comfortable, as comfortable as slipping into speech about the many things he'd filled his head with. The fact he wanted to share the all with Thrushnose and make her proud caused his tail to flicker back and forth anxiously. It had been sometime since the pair had spent time together alone. He wondered what life was like for her, how she was doing, and wanted to share the same. Was that strange? He swallowed remembering a conversation he'd had with Minkstar sometime ago.

"How is being deputy?"

On the rare occasion Thrushnose assigned herself to patrol ThunderClan’s borders, the cats accompanying her, by unspoken agreement, looked to her to lead them. She’d adjusted to that better than the rest of deputyship; it made sense, no matter how strange it sometimes felt, and she didn’t mind taking on the extra responsibility. Still, she preferred patrols like this—just two cats, walking side by side. There was less noise, less chaos, more room for desperately needed conversation. She knew the apprentice she’d taken throughout the territory and shared fish, birds, and bugs with better than the proud warrior her son had grown into, and she wanted to fix that.

Stoat broke the silence first, and she looked aside at him, dull green eyes a shade brighter than usual. “I’ve always been more of an owl than a robin.” Waking before dawn may have become her new normal, but she had to watch the moon carefully or else she’d end up tumbling out of her nest after sunhigh like an elder. “Besides, you see more spiders at night. Worms, too.”

His next question wasn’t so easy to answer. Quiet as always, Thrushnose’s broad paws stuck to the dirt. “It’s…hm.” She wouldn’t lie to him about this. Firstly because it wasn’t right; secondly because it wouldn’t last. “It’s a lot of work,” she finally said, and lengthened her stride until she made up the distance she’d lost. “Not always the kind of work I’m best at. I don’t mind it, but…” Trailing off, Thrushnose ended her sentence with a shrug. She was meant to be a warrior, nothing more, nothing less. Which reminded her— Her ears swiveled forward as she fixed her eyes on her son again. “How has warriorhood been going for you?”

"Seems like I must have gotten it from you then. I don't know how some cats rise with the sun." Stoatfur shook out his coat, wrinkling his nose at the thought and then nodding slightly at her addition. It was true, there were more creatures around at night - creatures like snakes. He briefly wondered if his mother would find his habit of hunting down snakes to be an odd thing, or if she would find it understandably entertaining. For now he shook his question away, opting to save it for another moment. His mother was deputy after all, she didn't have time to listen to silly fancies of a young warrior who could hardly keep his own mind entertained.

His ear flicked, noting her pause, "Hard work but you do well enough. Minkstar chose well but I never doubted him." The warrior's tail brushed her coat slightly, an attempt at reassurance. He wasn't sure it would do anything but it was worth an attempt at least - for Thrushnose. Stoatfur found it to be his turn to not know what to say. Usually, he filled conversation with pointless words or distracting knowledge to forget his own buried thoughts. But the level of comfort around the she cat wasn't like any other.

He paused for a moment, paws slowing before shrugging slightly, "I mean I don't know, fine, I guess? It never feels like enough. Like I'm not doing what I'm supposed to do. But I never feel like that anyways. You know?"