precious [C]

Webshadow

It was that cold and lonely season where the darkness crept in early. It felt like only moments ago, the skies had been bright with midday sun, washed-out blues and burning sun. But in the blink of an eye, everything had turned dull and gray; and just as quickly, black. No clouds marred the horizon tonight. Every star in Silverpelt was on full display, shimmering coldly from their distant seat above. But not too distant here. Webshadow's head lolled so he could turn his eye wholly towards the blanket of stars, the glowing half-moon. Stretched out on the sparse grass surrounding Highstones was as close as any cat would likely come to sleeping beside StarClan– other than at the base of the Moonstone itself. He exhaled, and it was a ragged, wheezing sound.

Perhaps not too far at all. The thought troubled him. The nagging idea had been persistent, nipping at his heels since ShadowClan fled their camp to start. The initial race had not been easy, but he had made it to Fourtrees in one piece, and had only needed minimal support. And yet, he had been aware of how tired his body was. Following the trek to Highstones, as long and fearful as it was, he had barely moved. Webshadow had all but fallen over after they'd arrived, and in the days following, had scarcely gotten to his paws. Today, he hadn't at all. Periodically he would sit upright, or drag himself into a new laying position, but he found both those tasks to be exhausting. His body had simply given up on him. He had the horrible, frightening feeling– no, not just a feeling, it was knowledge, true and instinctual –that he would only fight it's weakness for a few more suns, if he was lucky.

Oh, now is not the time for dour thoughts... I have guests. Again, Webshadow's head rolled until he could focus on the two warriors at his side. Though they were near to him, they looked foggy for a great few moments until his vision collected. Honeylight was not an unusual sight: the young tom had made it a habit of visiting often, whether it was to bring meals or just to occupy his time. Webshadow had grown fond of him, to a degree. He was a good young cat, and the company was nice when he did not have many friends left. Honeylight's companion was more of a surprise. Webshadow did not speak to Iceheart often; the last time they had spoken directly had been over the news of Froststar's passing. A feeling, icy and dark, gripped his chest at the memory. The matted tabby regarded them for a heartbeat, and his jaw fell slack, hanging open for another moment longer. After a breath, he rasped out, "Do elders still tell stories?" He did not think he had the energy for story-telling– yet it revitalized something in him too, brought a consciousness to him he had not experienced in moons. Living history, how fun I am.

Honeylight offered one of his usual bright grins over the plump mouse he brought with him. He’s been worried about Webshadow, visiting him even more frequently than usual to make sure he’s well cared for. While his own mood had hardly improved after Twolegs stole away his clanmates and they were once again driven from the semblance of peace they had collected, he tried to seem like his normal self around Webshadow. The old tom deserved some familiarity and comforting faces. He seemed to be in so much pain since the trip to highstones. It made Honeylight’s heart ache to see.

This time, he had brought Iceheart with him. He wanted Webshadow to have plenty of good company right now, and Iceheart was always good company.

“Yeah! I love stories,” Honeylight chirped, setting down the mouse. “I brought you something to eat.” Softer, he added, “We can share again, if you want.” He smiled before plopping down beside Webshadow. Honeylight knows he runs hot, so he hopes being close will help combat the awful chill in the air for Webshadow’s older joints. He tucked his paws underneath himself, pulling his tail over his side and looking at Iceheart with twinkling eyes before looking at Webshadow again.

“What kind of stories do you want to share?”

Iceheart

Iceheart had not had many interactions with Webshadow in the past. Most of them had not been pleasant. Her first interaction, she had been a foolish kit who insulted him to his face about his standing as a warrior. As an apprentice, she had gotten into semi-trouble with him due to following after Snakebite who had tried to sneak out of camp to go to the Carrionplace. And then as a warrior, she had been the one to inform Webshadow of the death of Froststar. They had ha a few quiet interactions here and there, but the substantial ones had not been positive. Iceheart would not be surprised if Webshadow did not enjoy her presence. Honeylight was the one who visited him often, and the one who had bought Iceheart now. She hoped that her presence was not a thorn in Webshadow’s paw.

“I’m sure you have many important tales about what came before us,” Iceheart offered in a soft tone. She kept her eyes downcast.

Webshadow

The larger warrior settled himself comfortably at Webshadow's side, setting his mouse down as well. Honeylight was a good young cat, and a weak smile came to the elder's expression at the offer. "No stomach for it," he sighed softly. Ordinarily, he would have at least tried, if for no reason than to appease the other warrior. But now, the whole process seemed all together too exhausting and overwhelming. It was much, much easier just to lay there, as comfortable as he could be strewn over stones, with body heat seeping through to warm him and quiet company that would listen to his listless chatter. Looking away from the mouse, Webshadow's attention rolled towards Iceheart's hushed voice. Though more distant than Honeylight, she was a good warrior too. Webshadow was sad he had never gotten to have a good conversation with her. This one was not much cheerier.

"Did either of you know... I am not a ShadowClan cat?" A little whistle hissed between his teeth, and a noise halfway to a laugh chased it. It wasn't quite funny– no, not when he had had Clanmates that would have run him off, had he been born a few seasons late. The notion soured his heart, and Webshadow quickly focused on the more humorous lens of it. "My mother, she was from... RiverClan, yes. Fascinating. I always was fond of the water. When I went to visit StarClan, as an apprentice, oh.. I do not remember her name. A very nice cat taught me how to swim in StarClan's rivers." Webshadow closed his eyes, sinking into the peace of the memory. He knew he would return there soon... then perhaps he could put those lessons and his fondness to use. "My father, my father... I do not remember either. Not ShadowClan, I know, not ShadowClan... Flintshard was a good leader, to welcome my parents when they held no ShadowClan blood. To welcome my mother's litter..." Of which he was the last surviving member, and had been for many, many moons. Now, he was the last surviving member of his entirely family that he knew. A heavier sigh left him. "That is how I earned my name... Webshadow. Flintshard had recognized my belonging... I am grateful. I am a ShadowClan cat, then, if blood is not what counts."