Shattered Foundations [Closed]

Mottleheart sat alone on the lone stump, his shoulders squared as his gaze shifted between his paws and the forest that ThunderClan called home. There was so many emotions that swirled within him like a raging storm, unsure of which one overcame the other as he fought against it all. But there was no denying the rage that flared in his narrowed eyes, his teeth bared in a wicked snarl as the tom felt the most rage he had ever felt in his life. How had he been so stupid? Should he have seen this coming? Could he had prevented it? He...His whole body shook as he gave his head a strong shake, this claws digging into the bark of the stump. He had been out of the camp when Shadepaw was brought in - only coming back from his hunting trip to learn what had happened and that Ashstar and Brindlewhisker had already left to face Rockpa-thorn. And when the small patrol had returned...His whole body became loose as he collapsed onto the stump, his gaze falling to the ground beneath him. He wasn't sure how to feel.

He wanted to be angry at Rockthorn - the tom hadn't reached out to Mottleheart in...Moons! He wasn't even aware that he had became a warrior finally and then suddenly he lashes out and nearly kills Shadepaw? And then according to Brindlewhisker it was revealed that he had almost killed two of his own Clanmates - one of them just a kit? He...There was a choking sound as he covered his muzzle with his paws, his eyes slamming shut as he struggled to see the image of Rockthorn that he had been informed off in the last few sunrises. He didn't want to believe it but it was true. All of it...True. Rockthorn was no longer a ThunderClan cat. He was wanted dead by his own Clan and also Ashstar...And he couldn't blame her. But what had he missed? How had his friend turned into...Into...His body heaved as he fought back the wave of emotions that threaten to overcome him. "Wh-Why?" he questioned to nobody as he fought back the tears that pricked at the corner of his eyes. "Why did this happen?" Was it his fault? Had Rockthorn lashed out because of him? Could he had prevented this? His eyes flickered open, the warmness gone from his brown eyes as he dimly realized that he could have prevented this all.

If only he had let Rockthorn die those many moons ago in Fourtrees.

If only he had never met Rockthorn.

"I asked myself the same thing at first." Brindlewhisker rasped as she trudged towards Mottleheart, paws dragging heavily with each and every step that she took. Ever since she had returned from Thunderclan's camp and first told Mottleheart about everything that had transpired, she had found herself roaming aimlessly through the territory in an attempt to give her friend time to adjust to the startling news before confiding in him about it. A part of her wanted to go visit Fourtrees like she would during the hay days of her friendship with Mottleheart and Rockthorn, but every time a thought like that crossed her mind, she was plagued with the sight of Shadepaw's gravely wounded face.

"Are you alright, Mottleheart?" She questioned softly, coming to a stop beside her sitting companion, clearing her throat softly afterwards. Unlike Mottleheart who was just now coming to term with the various emotions that resulted in learning about Rockthorn's heinous actions, she had moved past it all and was simply tired. Tired of questioning if it was her fault, tired of questioning if she should of recognized the signs, tired of constantly mulling over the last positive interaction she had with Rockthorn- she was just tired. The type of tired that forces an ache so deep within your own bones that not even an infinite amount of time could drive it away- no matter what overbearingly positive mantras she choked down in an attempt to combat it.

Brindlewhisker dropped to her belly heavily, grunting as her sensitive underside collided heavily with the solid-packed moorland earth, forcing herself to look over at Mottleheart as she did so. Resting her chin on her forelegs and pulling her gaze away from her companion, she found herself being inevitably drawn towards the dark green smudge upon the horizon that marked Thunderclan territory. A low sigh slithered its way past her jaws as she continued to gaze forlornly at the territory that her former friend had once inhabited, trying to keep the dark thoughts at bay as she waited for Mottleheart to respond, eyes slipping shut as she did so.

Mottleheart's body jolted ever so slightly as Brindlewhisker's voice answered the question he had left to the air but his expression didn't change as his gaze shifted over to see the deputy strolling up to him. There was a silence as his friend collapsed next to him, finding her presence comforting as he mulled over her question. Was he alright? "...No," he hissed after a good long heartbeats, raw emotions filtering into that simple but powerful word. Hot hair tickled his paw as he exhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes narrowing as he stared out onto the horizon. "I am not okay." How could he be?

Rockthorn had betrayed every principal that Mottleheart believed in. He had become the very thing that Mottleheart feared - a tom who took violence as the only answer and could not be reasoned with. The thing that haunted his nightmares as a young kit following that battle with RiverClan...A true monster. His eyes closed for a few seconds as those dreadful memories started to rise up in his mind. His breath quicken as his ears fell flat, fighting back fearful whimpers as he pushed those fears and nightmares down deep inside him before opening up his eyes. "What...What are we to do now?" he questioned, his voice uneasy as he shook off the remaining fear that lingered beneath his pelt.

He wasn't expecting an answer, but he could only hope that the older she-cat would have some wisdom to share.