For Every Step Forward... [Perchstar]

It seemed the universe was determined she take two steps back.

A familiar scent hit Beechfang's nose as she slipped through the shadows of twolegplace, faint enough she might have even missed it if she wasn't checking for things out of the ordinary. It had become habit, as things that did not belong in twolegplace were uncommon. Clan cats were among things that didn't belong in twolegplace, especially not those of the water-loving variety. It made Beechfang's hackles rise, uneasiness like a stone in her stomach.

Unbidden, her paws turned away from the abandoned section of twolegplace where her den was. Beechfang was hardly aware of her surroundings shifting, changing. Hard packed twoleg stone giving way to grass and dirt. The roar of monsters giving way to the cheerful chirp of birds and the wind playing among the leaves above. The bright, overwhelming colors of twolegplace giving in to the more natural palette of the forest. The ground felt softer beneath her paws, welcoming even. Welcoming, though it should not have been. Not here, at least.

Beechfang's ears slid back as she stared at her surroundings. This was folly. She ought to turn and go back to twolegplace... Hide, like a coward. Keep to the terms of her exile. She hadn't been to this stretch of land since... Since Cloverheart. She had no desire to be here at all.

Her paws continued forward. She needed answers. Needed to make sure the cat she'd scented wasn't in twolegplace anymore. But she could've done that in twolegplace, combed the streets, made sure no trace remained. She hadn't even found a fresh scent to begin with.

Perchstar... Hardly more than a kit, prepared to wage war for her deceased medicine cat. Understandable, as much as Beechfang had detested her, she would have done the same f or her own. Beechfang had left, and been content to stay as far from Riverclan as she could. So why hadn't Perchstar, then? Why had she ventured into twolegplace? Falconmoon, if that was truly his name, she could understand. He had memories nobody but she and her littermate had shared, and she did not trust that the young tom was wholly that. But Perchstar? Oh, the Riverclanner despised her, she was certain, but to be caught so far from her home? Did her own desire for vengeance run so deep, seasons after?

Beechfang knew hers would have.... Had, even. The thought made her ears lay flat once more for a moment. She was so very tired of it... Cloverheart must've been mocking her from above, but it was the least she deserved, Beechfang had concluded that some time ago. Not long after her run in with Falconmooon.

"What am I doing?" Beechfang muttered to herself, slowly shaking her head. Movement caught her eye, and the scarred she-cat turned. Too late to go back now, she realized. She'd been spotted. And by the very cat she had so foolishly sought out, no less.

"And they say I borrow trouble..." Beechfang muttered, knowing that borrowing trouble was precisely what she was doing standing here at all. It was too late to turn back now, though, too late to crawl back to her empty, silent nest, the routine of looking over her shoulder at every turn. Too late to erase the mistakes that had led her here. Beechfang's single eye watched the gray and white Riverclanner for a moment, paws remaining firmly on the ground as she made no move toward her.

"I found your scent quite a ways from your territory. I haven't come sniffing around yours all this time, why then do I find you so close to what little I have for myself? Is it not enough that I've kept out of your fur?" There was a rasp to Beechfang's voice born of weariness as she kept the leader - still, for she carried herself like one still - across the water within her sight.

Every time that Perchstar patrolled near the SkyClan border, she kept an eye out for cats on the other side. It was extremely unlikely, she knew. It was unlikely to run into Birdstar when they were both alone not twice, but three times. And yet, as odd as it felt, as uncertain as she was of why she wanted to encounter the other leader when they had very little to discuss, she searched the thickly packed trees across the river for any sign of a silver tabby whenever she found herself in the area. It was nice that she now associated this area with something other than finding a corpse, the scent of death filling her nose, the settling dread in the pit of her stomach... though she still did stay away from the two specific rocks that had cradled Cloverheart's waterlogged body. She tried her best not to think of it. That had been... nearly a year ago, now. It was best to let the past be in the past, so long as no ghosts would emerge to haunt her. Bloodstrike and Beechfang were gone from the forest, so there was no point in using valuable mind space to hold a grudge.

Or so she thought.

Her meandering thoughts were waylaid by the sudden appearance of a silver form in the very corner of her eye. She whipped her head around, heart suddenly pounding. Had she actually run into Birdstar again? But, no. A momentary hope turned immediately to a deep feeling of dread. That form, so similar yet so different--those unmistakable scars--that shocked look that turned into a one-eyed glare. A cat she had not seen since the war with SkyClan was barely averted.

Beechfang was on SkyClan territory. Mere fox-lengths away from the RiverClan border.

Perchstar barely managed not to instantly unsheathe her claws, keeping her composure and neutral expression as she halted in her path. She needed to size up the situation before doing anything rash. As much as the unburied emotions of a year ago called for immediate action, she knew better. Still... this situation called for caution. While she was confident in her own battle abilities, the fact that a known murderer was still at large forced a prick of worry for her Clan through the mixed feelings swirling in her mind.

Beechfang's words were... surprising. Mentioning that Perchstar had been away from the territory? Telling the leader to keep away from what was "hers"? It took a few moments to get the rogue's implied meaning past her barrier of trepidation, but when it struck her, her confusion was not satisfied. Beechfang must have found her scent somewhere in Twolegplace, even nearly a moon after she had returned to RiverClan. But what on earth was she worried about that for? Had the amoral tabby seriously come all this way simply to defend grungy back alleyways that no one else had any interest in claiming? An inkling formed in the back of her thoughts, inspired by the moment of worry that she thought she could see behind the weary fierceness in Beechfang's eye.

It took a few moments for Perchstar to muster a response, but once she did, her voice was calm and cold. "I assure you, I would have no reason to venture into Twolegplace on purpose," she remarked coolly. "I find its Thunderpaths far inferior to the bounty of my Clan. While I was there, it was entirely against my will, and I found my way home as quickly as possible. Or... do you flatter yourself that I would take time out of my leadership duties to conduct a fruitless search for you, a year after your crime? When you were already duly punished by your exile?" And thus they came to the real matter that worried Perchstar. Her light blue eyes narrowed into slits, gaze sharp as claws falling upon Beechfang's face. "And speaking of being exiled... what exactly are you doing on Clan lands?"

For a moment Perchstar did not speak, and Beechfang wondered if her lack of care was going to end in violence. When she gazed at the rushing water between them she could almost see a pale white body with a ginger tail, a twisted sneer on the ghost's expression. If this were to end in violence, ending the same way Cloverheart had, Beechfang almost thought it fitting. A pathetic end to a pathetic existence, borne of a misjudgment and a fool's misstep.

The leader across the river spoke, intruding on her thoughts. Probably a good thing, something in the back of Beechfang's mind knew.

Oh, how Perchstar continued to confuse her with her littermate. Dawnhawk had, Beechfang was certain, wanted to be found a few times. Wanted the violence an encounter would bring and the chance to inflict more pain. A sigh left Beechfang as she gazed at Perchstar. "No, I'd hope and expect a leader would have more important things to focus on than a seasons-exiled cat who has kept away from her borders." Her words lacked the heat they might have held once. There was something almost akin to relief in her tone, that this one at least had not been deliberately hunting her. She knew very, very well just how deep the desire for retribution could run. "I'm not here for violence. I'm not Dawnhawk to want to destroy your clan because I was exiled for a crime I committed. I made my mistakes - many mistakes, more than you could ever know - and won't hide from them."

Perchstar continued, and Beechfang's clipped ear twitched. Had it been that long? The days blurred, blending into one another. "There are days it feels longer than that." Nearly a year, and so much had happened since. Dovefrost's untimely death, their kits had become warriors, deputies, medicine cats and even clan leader. She'd watched the forest from a distance, as the cats familiar to her gave way to new, younger faces. Beechfang gave her head a shake, trying to dispel the thought.

Beechfang had thought the answer as to why she'd left the territory had been answered by her own opening statement, or maybe Perchstar thought it was more than just her paranoia driving her. Perhaps she thought it something darker. "I actually had no intention of leaving twolegplace," she admitted with a grimace, "I avoid other rogues and kittypets who squabble over the smallest scraps, but I learn their scents and recognize when a new face comes and goes. You aren't the first clan cat to be taken by twolegs and lost among the thunderpaths, I doubt you'll be the last, but you're the first one in moons, and the first one I could put a face to." Aside from her family, that was, "You're as out of place in twolegplace as the twolegs were at fourtrees." As out of place as Beechfang would ever feel there, too. Perchstar had the opportunity to return home, at least. "I intended to make sure you had truly left and... well. Find myself here." She frowned at that, though for once the frown was not aimed at the one she was speaking with.

Perchstar tried not to let her tail lash behind her as she listened to Beechfang's meandering words. If the rogue was so unworried about the leader's presence, as she claimed, why bother coming all this way to make sure she had left? What could a RiverClan cat possibly want from Twolegplace? The mention of Dawnhawk again was bothersome, especially since it had made Bloodstrike's fur so ruffled, but she managed to admit to herself that Beechfang had not--as yet, that she noticed--attempted to return for revenge yet on her Clan. Which was what made the murderer's presence here in the first place so perplexing. Of course, she had made mistakes. At least she was aware of that. But what Perchstar wanted to know was why that warranted her existence on the territory from which she had been exiled, and so close to the border of her enemies.

Beechfang acknowledged that Perchstar would have no desire to be in Twolegplace and, indeed, would be most likely to have been taken there against her will. But it still made no sense. Why then would the rogue be so insistent on making sure that the leader left? Surely it wasn't out of any misplaced sense of concern for an enemy who had called for her exile or death. It would seem to Perchstar like some sort of pathetic, convenient excuse to attack RiverClan... if she had not been in the territory as described, and since she had not seen Beechfang since her exile until now. It was perplexing. Beechfang herself seemed almost confused at her presence. Why were they having this conversation?

Perchstar held in a sigh, and spoke again, keeping her voice as calm and low as possible. "Well, whatever the reason you came chasing after my scent--be it feeling threatened, or confused, or concerned, or whatever other emotions you may find yourself burdened with--it no longer matters. I am here, in RiverClan, with no intent of leaving. You are welcome to the crowfood-stinking place. Now, I advise that you get off of territory where you are no longer allowed to step foot, and stay far away from the borders of this river. Given that I have not seen hide nor hair of you before now, I assume there is no need to tell you twice. As you say... you are not Dawnhawk. Let us keep it that way." She flicked her torn ear. "Long ago as it was, your murder of Cloverheart has not been forgiven nor forgotten. Its impact is still felt in my Clan these many moons later. I suggest that we do not encounter each other again; I prefer to keep my claws sheathed unless absolutely necessary."

All the feelings Perchstar rattled off were familiar ones, and their weight had settled firmly across her shoulders, wearing the strong tabby down slowly but surely. "No, I suppose not." Beechfang agreed quietly. "Crowfood and rogues. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." Except her worst enemy had embraced it, because of course he did. Beechfang had not when she was first exiled, and still didn't, if she was being honest with herself. Strange as it was, there was something almost comforting about talking to the cat across the river, as comforting as it was unsettling. She knew how to talk to a clan cat, even one who despised her.

Perchstar's voice drew her back to the conversation, "I wouldn't expect it to be forgotten by her own clanmates... Stars know I haven't." Stars know I'd like to... But that's the price I paid, isn't it? Her gaze drifted back to the rushing water for another moment. The face that glared back at her from the water's surface was not her own, and twisted into a sneer. The former Skyclanner flinched almost imperceptibly.

Beechfang inhaled slowly, a tired sigh escaping her as she glanced back toward Perchstar. "I'll be leaving, then. I just-" She shook her head, not even sure what she was going to say. "Oh, it doesn't matter... I'm going." The scarred she-cat turned, fully intending to follow her path back towards the crowfood-stinking place, as Perchstar had put it.