Coming Back to What's Left [open]

Adderdawn

The walk from Highstones was quiet and, despite the short distance from crag to moorland, surprisingly long. Maybe it was the fact Adderdawn spent more time laying on the rocks than stretching his legs lately, fallen back into old habits. Or maybe it was the combined weight of his own cold emotions and the crackling tension shared by the rest of the Clan. Adderdawn's tail flickered with agitation as he thought on it, and he drifted closer to Flutterpetal. He'd never let his interests cross into Clan politics, and mostly did not have the energy to give to it. However much their alliance with ShadowClan bothered him (and others), there was no frustration left for him to spend on it. So– he didn't.

He didn't, until Nightstar and his leering companion dragged two WindClan warriors back to Highstones, both mangled, the opposing leader throwing his weight around and calling relations off. The dark tom seemed a terror, and Adderdawn was quietly grateful that, if Shrikestar had those inclinations, he was at least quiet about them. What a pain it must be for Honeylight, to live under that brute.

As the Clan filtered into their camp– blessedly untouched, unlike the rest of their home –Adderdawn stayed close to his brother, ready to follow the other tom wherever his paws carried him across camp. But no sooner than the last of their Clanmates had arrived, Shrikestar was mounting the Tallrock and bellowing summons. Ears flattening, Adderdawn turned his attention towards their leader. Finally home, grateful to StarClan... was that all this would be, a little prayer and celebration that they were sound? The large tabby trailed into a however, and Adderdawn felt his muscles tightening at the way Shrikestar's features darkened. The sentence following made his heart beat so fast the little tom was worried it might fall out of his chest.

His claws flexed, raking through the soft sand underpaw. Disappointed, in them? What all had happened in the last few seasons– stars, in the last few days –that Shrikestar had done anything about? Maybe Adderdawn had just been too far gone, stuck in his own rotten feelings to notice, but their leader had done nothing except hand their allegiance away while warriors died around him. Before he knew it, Shrikestar was disappearing into his den, and Adderdawn was leaping to his paws to shove his way through the crowd, briefly blinded by his contempt.

"Coward!" He cried after Shrikestar's retreating form, tail lashing behind him. Amberstone and Russetrye passed him, the latter looking especially dismayed. Though he was not close with her, the sight of the weary, wounded she-cat only stoked the fury in his chest. Whatever Shrikestar had summoned them for, Adderdawn hoped his screeching would ruin every second of it. "What did you do when your warriors were dying, Shrikestar? Making sure extra warriors followed patrols, issuing orders to never leave camp alone– did you do anything like that? Or were you content to watch the mate and kits Coyotegrin had before you die to foxes while you did nothing?

Did you think giving us away to ShadowClan would fix our problems for us? Were you hoping Nightstar would valiantly cross our borders with stars atop his head to do all the work you refuse to? We weren't even getting anything from that excuse of an alliance!" Adderdawn paused to take a breath, spat, and barreled forth. "And when Nightstar shows up to camp dragging two of our warriors half-dead, you do nothing except puff out your fur and flex your claws while he threatens the Clan you are in charge of! You looked at Amberstone, at Russetrye, and cowed to him." Adderdawn's chest was heaving. He would need a moment to recover his breath, when his mouth decided he was done. "And Silverwing, too. What's the use in involving her? What did she do, except defend her Clanmates, show some of the courage and devotion you clearly lack? Nightstar and his friend were cruel, and every cat that saw those two knows it. Those aren't the wounds you get from a regular border skirmish. But," The words felt searing against his tongue. Speaking so openly against his leader, the eyes of all the Clan burning against his back... it was hard not to wonder if StarClan was coming for him next, even though he was far from the worst cat in the forest. "I'd rather live under Nightstar than a cat that just rolls over and offers his throat. At least I know he would actually defend the Clan."

With another spit, Adderdawn's head whipped to look at the crowd– mistake. For a second, all the rage in him pulsed out, replaced by cold terror. He felt he looked dumb, throwing such a tantrum and then just standing there, wide-eyed and shaking as he faced the Clan. But as he scanned the crowd, he realized one of the summoned cats hadn't joined Shrikestar's den yet. Silverwing. Swinging his attention back towards the leader's den, Adderdawn marched to it, blocking the entrance with as much of himself as he could. "If you want Silverwing to join you three, get her yourself. At least Amberstone and Russetrye can get put on elder duty for trespassing, but you will not reprimand a warrior with actual value." A shudder went through him as some of the red haze of rage left his vision and he could focus more clearly on his Clanmates. That cold fear returned to his chest, but Adderdawn only swallowed against it, quieting the nerves that followed his outburst.