i come to you for help [Closed]

Ratpaw took a deep breath, steadying himself. He raised a paw to step forward, then — hesitated. The young tom hovered near the edge of the nursery… knowing he had to be here, but that it wasn’t a place for toms to intrude. It was close to the belly of their home, a protected space, but also one the clan kept away from, to not crowd or overwhelm the queens.

Dusktail hadn’t wanted any of the clan on Ratpaw, when he was a kit; too exhausted and wary and fearful he wouldn’t make it… like his littermates, who were with Starclan from their first breath.

But — there weren’t any new litters that Ratpaw knew of. Murkystar’s had been most recent, but she’d returned to her den quickly enough. So… he wouldn’t be so disruptive… and the kits right now were older...

That is, if… if his grandmother were there. It was nearing dawn, so she should be, at least to settle down. Ratpaw flicked his tail nervously. He didn’t want to be a bother.

But — he also wanted to be here. He deliberated for a moment, torn.

And then Ratpaw ducked his head in, and called softly, “Amberdawn? It’s me, Ratpaw… Are you there?”

It had been a long day, and the ginger-patched molly had just aided in settling the kits down for bed. It seemed as though Murkystar's young ones were quite the pawful, but she was happy to help where she could. She was about to settle down herself when she heard a voice call for her, and turned around to see a familiar black tom, her daughter's own son.

Looking back at the kits for a moment, and seeing they were sound asleep, Amberdawn ducked out of the nursery, ushering Ratpaw behind her. She did not want to make too much noise and run the risk of waking them. She was thankful her grandson had the good sense to remain quiet himself, or she might have found herself in a difficult situation.

"Alright, we can talk now. What's on your mind, dear? You look startled. Is everything alright?" She gazed at Ratpaw, concern showing in her eyes, and she brushed her tail along his side. This was her kin, it was her job to worry about him. And with how shaken up he was, it seemed as though she had a good reason to fear. She found herself thankful that he had come to her. Hopefully he had come to her for help, at least. She couldn't do anything if he did not share, after all.

Ratpaw didn’t realize how much he had been needing to see her until he saw her. It was like relief, as Amberdawn emerged from the nursery — clearly having been busy, putting down kits for the day, but just as he’d always remembered her. She smelled of milk, and kits, and of the bits and leaves that lined their nests. And more than that— the marsh, of course.

She was Shadowclan as much as he was.

The ushering was also familiar. Gratefully, Ratpaw stepped with her, until they were a good distance away from the nursery. It left them near a sheltered corner of camp, near the entrance; still cold and dusted with snow but sheltered.

Suddenly, as the queen stepped with him, he was very grateful he had come to ask. The immediacy of his kin’s concern was… it reassured him, just as much as his still-healing cuts stung as he sat. There was… for a mother’s concern to apply to him, even after…

The chasm in his chest, of stickiness and uncertainty… he let it open, a bit. He wasn’t sure she would understand, but — more than his mother, Amberdawn had always struck Ratpaw as… kind, to everyone. He didn’t think she would wish anyone ill — not even a Windclan apprentice, barely more than a kit herself.

More… if he was any danger to kits, she would know, wouldn’t she?

“I…” and it was here that Ratpaw looked up at his kin, with eyes almost… haunted. “What if I hurt someone?”

After the skirmish at the border, he’d been… jumpy, skittish, and… “I — I’m not sure if you heard. Mistypaw and I were fighting, but she never hurt me. Just cuts. And I… grandmother, she’s going to be like that forever.”

His voice lowered. “It was an accident — I think it was; I never meant to. I just didn’t want her to get away. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but… how can I—?”

It… wasn’t right. But no Shadowclan cat had rebuked him for it, when… he shouldn’t have. “It makes me not like myself. I… don’t want to be someone that does that to other cats.”

It all came out at once, one word after another, more quickly than Ratpaw could stop, until he came upon the worry so deep, at the base of his gut. He’d… said this much, so far, that he whispered, “And… we won. We fought for prey, but… Does this mean Windclan goes hungry?”

Yellow eyes glanced toward the nursery, thinking of… Swiftkit, and Nightkit. Did it make him a horrible cat, to prefer Windclan starving to those kits going a day without food? But…

He also thought of Timbersun, the hulking Windclan warrior, who had been honorable. More honorable, at least, than Ratpaw — who refused to harm an apprentice who could clearly not fight back.

Ratpaw was going to have scars. Thin, silver ones across his cheek and chest. And the skirmish — it was bigger than just him, it was his leader, Murkystar, and so many of their warriors. But…

It was this, he was afraid to ask. “Why do we do it, Amberdawn? Why did Windclan?”

Amberdawn listened intently as Ratpaw spoke, her tail tip twitching ever so slightly. Of course, she had heard of the confrontation with WindClan at the border, and she was not happy with it. But Ratpaw was still so young and naive. He shouldn't have been thrust into that situation so soon. Of course, she couldn't blame Murkystar, no cat had known the other Clan would be challenging them until the patrols had met face to face. Still, Ratpaw wasn't ready, and the results were showing. She let out a long, slow sigh before she finally came up with an answer.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. But you know, sometimes bad things like this....they just happen. We don't always know why, and maybe there isn't a reason. We just move forward. We keep going, and we don't let these things hold us down. Mistypaw...was that her name? She may never be the same. But in time, she will heal. She will grow stronger, just as you will. You will both continue to live, and you will continue to protect your Clans, because that is all you can do. It won't be easy, but that's what you have me for."

With a small smile, Amberdawn pulled her grandson close to her, licking the top of his head and his ears, a gentle purr rising from her throat. "Don't let this stuff eat you up, ok? And if you ever need me to yell at Murkystar, just say the word, and there will be no more fighting for you, mister." She chuckled, before showering Ratpaw in more licks.

Ratpaw listened as Amberdawn spoke, quietly absorbing her words. It had made sense, to hear it; there was no justifying Mistypaw’s hurt. And yet it also hadn’t been willful, it just… was, now. His tail curled tighter around himself. But — she would be okay, eventually.

...and so would he.

And then his grandmother pulled him close, with a little yelp of surprise on his part — but then began licking him affectionately. Maybe it wasn’t something he was used to — physical affection, not since he left the nursery — but it was warm. And it tickled! He giggled, a little, at the affection before his thoughts sobered.

Some of what Amberdawn had said… it hadn’t dispelled all of his fear. But then Ratpaw remembered the words Webshadow had spoken to him, those many moons ago; the idea of true violence had shaken him then, too.

It still didn’t make sense. He still didn’t… want to.

But in that moment, in that stretch of territory, he’d made the choice to follow Murkystar. And Burningwing, and Batglow, and Mistyfalcon. It had felt like life or death, and it might as well have been. And Webshadow… had said that; that being a warrior meant that sometimes, this was asked of you. Even if you wouldn’t want to.

And Ratpaw had made that choice. He touched his chest, where Mistypaw had scored with her claws, and thought of Webshadow’s choices.

He looked up at Amberdawn, her gaze full of the words she’d spoken. It was... a terrifying, gut-wrenching choice with consequences that made him sick, but... Ratpaw was not alone, either. She — Mistypaw — would never be alone.

None of the cats in battle today had fought without another by their side, who would fight for them. And that… it did stir something, in his chest. He found a quiet, gentle sound building in his throat, leaning into the warrior queen’s warmth and nursery-scent. You’re a very wise cat, he thought quietly to his grandmother, against her heartbeat.

At her words, he pulled back a bit, to look at Amberdawn’s face. ”I’m okay! You don’t have to do that,” he mewed, ear twitching — picturing the queen having words with their imposing, striking leader, about him... he flushed. ”It’s fine! And I… wish I didn’t have to fight, but… Webshadow told me something like this would happen too. I... think I understand now.”

It didn’t make all of it go away, but…

He thought he understood. Shadowclan looked after Shadowclan — and it still felt new, that it meant him, but he knew it did — and that was okay, because… Windclan would look after their own, too. It was their way. He might never be able to bite a tail without flinching, but. That was okay, too.

Amberdawn smiled, looking down at Ratpaw. "It sounds like Webshadow knows what he is talking about. How is training with him, anyway? I hear he is a very respectable warrior. Does he make as good of a mentor as I would expect?"

Now that the main issue was out of the way, she wanted to catch up with her grandson, since they haven't much spoken since he was a kit. Besides, it would be a good distraction for him.

"He does," Ratpaw confirmed. When he thought of other mentors he could've received... it never seemed right. "He's not easy on me, sometimes. And at first I couldn't tell. But... he does it because he cares."

Ratpaw then looked at his grandmother, who had been part of Shadowclan for so long; had probably been where he was, at one point. Even if it was never in the same way. "Was your mentor good, too, when you were an apprentice?" The young tom leaned into her shoulder. "Do you have any stories, about what they were like? And did you... ever fight in any battles?"